


They Don't Care About Us

by ironhoshi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Aggressive Dadding, Angst, Canon doesn't matter anymore, Clones deserve hugs, Decommissioning has got to go, Down with the Sith, Flashbacks, Future Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi - Freeform, If this was Uno there would be so many reverses played, It is gonna start with hurt and end happy, Kamino, M/M, Mandalorian Competency Kink, Mental Anguish, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Relationships will evolve, Someone gets stabbed with a Mandalorian Spork, The Order isn't going to know what hit them, There will be clones, They want to stop a war, Time Travel Fix-It, Time to explore some stuff, Time to stop Order 66, Tiny feral child teams up with other tiny feral child, Two time travelers that are really bad at hiding they are time travelers, Violence, Violence Against Cadets, Violence Over Pudding Cups, dashes of fluff, it happened on accident, just two tired space dads going for the slow burn of a relationship, serious conversations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 34,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28130340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironhoshi/pseuds/ironhoshi
Summary: "Run," he barely managed to say before pure agony slammed into his side. His insides felt like they were suddenly submerged in lava. His hand stretched out, trying to motion Boba to run, but he found a gloved hand grabbing his. No, the idiot was trying to pull him with- then a scream escaped Boba Fett."No," a near inhuman voice yelled over the roaring and that was when everything just went dark.Stars exploded, the Force yelled, images flashed by far too fast for him to see.---Timetravel fix it!
Relationships: Boba Fett & Cal Kestis, Boba Fett & Jango Fett, Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Cal Kestis
Comments: 1126
Kudos: 2136
Collections: Jedi Journals, the peasant's guide to fine reading





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ...another WIP T_T   
> I have given up on self-control and am just going with my ideas. 
> 
> I have flagged this mature because there will be moments of violent flashbacks, but I will mark those chapters beforehand so you can skip if you want. (Also, idk, maybe some old people will hook up? Anything can happen.)

Cold. 

A sudden bone-chilling cold seemed to coat the very area around them and he tried to shuffle back a step, but Fett was at his back, stopping him. The stupid bounty hunter wasn't going to let him run. Already his heart was starting to beat out an irregularly fast tune as the telltale sound of death brushed past his ears. Mechanical, terrifying, breathing. 

The scar on his chest seemed to throb in time to each exhale. 

Cal could feel his breathing matching that sinister one and tried to control himself.

Calm, he had to be calm.

“Padawan Kestis,” the voice sent a jolt of panic down his spine. Any chance of calm skeetered just out of his grasp. “Looks like you have nowhere to throw yourself off of this time.” 

He wasn’t sure if he was flattered or disturbed that his usual means of escape was now a talking point of the Empire. The fact someone so powerful was paying attention wasn’t good, he settled on. Though, now that he thought about it, was that why he had been brought to this place? They were in a room that reminded him of the various temples he had explored, but something was off. This one had the feel of Dathomir and drummed up memories of screaming. There weren’t any windows to hurl himself out of and there were no ledges. His normal routine of escaping just wasn’t going to work here. This was effectively the worst situation he had ever been in and he was scrambling to come up with a plan. 

“Yeah, maybe, I might still surprise you,” he said with as much indifference as he could muster. A mistake, which he knew, but he still coughed as an invisible hand tightened around his throat. He felt himself being lifted just a fraction off the ground while BD shrieked loudly. He didn't fight, he just did his best to level a glare. 

Cere, Greez, and Merrin were hopefully far away. The last thing he wanted was for his crew- no family- to get caught by this monster. He was willing to die before giving up their location.

"Lord Vader," Fett's modulated voice interrupted them. "You said you wanted him alive. I haven't received payment." The grip on his throat loosened and he watched as that black helmet swung to stare at the bounty hunter. The Force was screaming a warning and he reacted before he could think. Cal threw his hand out and _pushed._ Red cut into the obsidian floor and then two helmets were fixed on him. He could feel anger and surprise, coiling around each other in the air, and he wondered if he had made a faint mistake.

"Fool. He is giving you to your death and you would save him?" Cal bit back a yell when he was finally released. A mistake, maybe, but it had earned him some sweet oxygen. His boots hit the ground hard and he stumbled a bit, leaning a little too hard to one side. He made a face when he remembered Fett still had his lightsaber. Shit, this was bad. Time to use words as a weapon then.

"He's doing his job, I might not be a fan, but he is right. You haven't paid him yet. Where's your honor?" Cal Kestis knew mouthing off to Darth Vader was a bad idea, he knew it would most likely get him killed, but he hadn't expected quite the explosion of rage. The wave of malice was visible as it rushed towards him. He twisted, trying to put himself between the power and the bounty hunter. 

"Run," he barely managed to say before pure agony slammed into his side. His insides felt like they were suddenly submerged in lava. His hand stretched out, trying to motion Boba to run, but he found a gloved hand grabbing his. No, the idiot was trying to pull him with- then a scream escaped Boba Fett. 

"No," a near inhuman voice yelled over the roaring and that was when everything just went dark. 

Stars exploded, the Force yelled, images flashed by far too fast for him to see. 

_Again. Try again._

The images shuttered, screeched to a halt, and then hurtled backward past his eyes. Everything was rewinding.

_Trust only in the Force, Padawan._

And then the world went silent.

Cold.

He was so cold.

Cal woke up, flinging blankets as he went, and swallowed a scream before it escaped. His flesh was hurting, itching even, but that wasn't what had stopped his scream. No, what had stopped the onslaught of emotions was the fact that his eyes had landed on the picture stuck to the wall. A picture he hadn't seen in years. He was an Initiate, laughing, with his arms around Caleb. 

The purge had stolen Caleb and everyone he knew from him. He had shoved those memories down to survive, so why were they bubbling up now?

He brought his hands up to his face to try and dash the dream apart and realized his hands were glove free...and small. Something was just below his vision, a blur in his line of sight, and his not fully awake mind was struggling to understand.

"What the kri-" Why did his voice sound different to his ears? A faint trill and then BD was pushing himself free of the blankets. His friend froze and then inquired why Cal was more droid sized. 

Why was BD suddenly bigger?

Something was wrong.

Something was seriously wrong. 

Everything seemed the wrong height and yet somehow right for his memories of this room. "Hang on," he squeaked before wincing. Talking just felt wrong for some reason. He was used to a faint feeling of a rumble in his chest and it was just absent. He was stuck with a voice he wanted deeper and no real idea how to fix that. Cal knew that wasn't the main issue here, no, he needed to figure out what was going on. He stepped out of the bed or rather he attempted to do so. He threw too much force into the step and found himself falling into the motion as his foot hit nothing but air. The floor was not where it should have been or his leg was much shorter than he remembered. He tried to balance himself, tried to grab something, but he still ended up in a painful pile on the floor. BD peered over the edge of the bed and let out a low sound of distress. 

“I’m fine,” he reassured his friend as best he could. BD just beeped low again, clearly not believing him. Yeah, that was fair, Cal didn’t believe the words himself either.

Dreams didn't have pain, Cal realized, which meant this wasn't a dream. He managed to somehow right himself without inflicting more pain to himself, a small miracle really. The rush to the fresher involved a few stubbed toes, but that was all forgotten as he tried to look into the mirror. The mirror had been hung higher on the wall- no, that wasn't right. He was painfully smaller than he should be so what was once a normal height was now horrible. He attempted to push himself up on his toes to look in the mirror, even tipped his head back, but he barely saw the top of his hair. Bright red and sticking up strangely from a clearly fitful sleep.

Cal landed on the pads of his feet and frowned. 

Didn't these freshers have small stepping stools? There was a chance he was remembering wrong. He hadn’t been inside the Temple in years- BD trilled from underneath something just before the sound of scraping filled the space. All thoughts were dashed against the ground as he turned to watch the display. The droid pushed the stool out from under the towel shelf while muttering about being inconvenienced. He wasn’t going to question how BD knew where it was, no, he was just going to go with the flow of things for now while trying to figure out what trouble they had landed in.

"Thanks, buddy." Cal positioned the stool and stepped up. 

Worst idea.

He was a youngling. 

The mirror was showing him a waking nightmare.

His fingers came up to press at his baby fat cheeks. The sensation was strange. His one cheek had always moved faintly different thanks to his scar, but the scar was now gone. All of his scars were gone. Cal made a face before blowing a raspberry out of frustration. Well, damn.

°

The vod’e were turning, raising their guns- 

The jettise were cutting through swaths of his family-

Time was rewinding itself inside his head. Each painful memory, each happy one, they all went backward.

Boba woke up screaming and a second later he could hear footsteps running towards his room. A single word left his lips in a sob, “ _Buir!_ ”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Visions of the future were not something he was known for, something all the Masters were aware of, so lying about having a vision probably wouldn't work.
> 
> "Kriff," he muttered and BD echoed the sentiment despite not knowing the reason why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present to you another chapter. Also, my limbs ache... wtf snow storm? We got so much snow T_T shoveling is not that fun.

The Force was impatient from what he could tell. Throwing him backward in time wasn't the main goal it seemed or at least that was the feeling he got. Cal was nearly suffocating under an intense urge to do something. He didn't know what he needed to do and it was making him a tad more emotional than normal. He had actually sworn at his poor datapad while trying to remember the password he had come up with as a youngling to protect the stupid thing. Ten annoying tries later and the thing was unlocked. A good thing it unlocked when it did since he had been debating just hurling the thing at the wall, a childish thought that wouldn't have solved anything. He felt overly flustered, BD's commentary on the small knick knacks around his bed wasn't helping his mood either. So what if he had a collection of shiny rocks as a youngling? They had been soothing to hold since they didn't hold any echos and they had all been interesting colors.

"I'm trying to figure this out," he said after BD knocked into his elbow for the third time. "Just...give me a moment." He closed every assignment his past self had left open and unfinished and pulled up the holonet. He needed to look at the news, needed to narrow down exactly when he had arrived in the past. He was clearly still an Initiate, but had the war started yet? 

The empty bed across from him meant it was clearly one of the various moments where he had been without a roommate. That helped narrow it down some, but the headlines would help him figure out more. 

A loud whoosh of air escaped him when the headlines all seemed pointless, except one that was a few days old and about an assassination attempt on the young Senator representing Naboo. Cal's brows furrowed together as he tried to remember which attempt on her life this was. The holo was always reporting about her during the war. He hadn't really paid attention to the news while still in the Temple, but he had listened to the vod'e gossip in the mess- wait a second. 

"BD, I think we are from before the war actually started!" He turned his datapad quickly for his friend to see. The droid peered at the screen before tapping at a headline Cal had missed. Several sectors were talking loudly of leaving the Republic and this particular headline was making it sound like it was really picking up steam. BD glanced up at him and trilled a question about what they were going to do. Cal lowered the datapad to his lap and frowned. He had been wondering that same thing as well. He was now just a youngling and he very much doubted that anyone was going to believe him if he blurted out he was from the future. Visions of the future were not something he was known for, something all the Masters were aware of, so lying about having a vision probably wouldn't work.

"Kriff," he muttered and BD echoed the sentiment despite not knowing the reason why.

That was when the Force struck, hard and fast. Cal's hands tightened on the edges of the datapad as an actual vision took him over. It was like trying to watch a holodrama through a pool of water. Distorted and odd sounding. General Kenobi was walking quickly across the hangar to a one man ship, clearly intent on a mission, but in the ground were letters that Cal knew weren't actually there. They were golden in color and seemed to flicker as if made from thousands of the light flies of Kashyyyk. The word those undulating letters spelled was one every Jedi General or Commander knew. _Kamino._

BD nudged him hard while worrying loudly. The vision let go of him, causing him to physically sag, and he sat there stunned. He was beyond exhausted, but he now knew he needed to move. General Kenobi was leaving for Kamino and he had to go with. He had the rebellious thought that he didn't want anymore visions, he had enough to deal with already, and the next second he found himself regretting that thought. The mental swat he got had him jumping slightly. The Force, it seemed, was sentient and not amused with him. 

"Alright, I get it, I'm going."

Cal slipped off the bed and set about getting dressed. He moved quickly, only getting tangled once or twice in his clothing, and thankfully managed not to faceplant again. He was going to have to get used to his smaller limbs fast. Shame the Force couldn't have just sent him back in his teenage body, that would have made things a whole lot easier for him. The Force, he reminded himself, was not around to just make things easy. He'd have to view this as yet another trial sent his way. The warm feeling he suddenly got had him assuming the Force agreed. 

There was something supremely annoying about wearing the Initiate tunics and pants again, more so when they bunched around elbows and knees in odd ways. How had he worn these things before? Cal missed his Scrapper clothing and how it fit him snugly. He didn’t have to worry about a sleeve getting caught in a doorway when he was wearing those clothes. Now? He had spent a good minute trying to wrestle the edge of his tunic free of a drawer. How was he supposed to sneak out into the hangar bay when he kept having technical difficulties with the clothing he was wearing? 

BD sat at his feet, looking him over, and then promptly let out a long line of swear words. Cal paused in fixing his belt and raised an eyebrow. "Uh, come again?" His friend grumpily informed him that riding on his back wasn't going to work. Where was the rigger harness? Why were his shoulders smaller? His lips twitched in mild amusement before he crouched down. The distance to the ground was not far and made him feel a tad confused, like he was unbalanced, but he shoved that aside as he looked at BD. 

"I can carry you or I can try to make a sling… I think I have a travel pack!" Cal let his knees hit the ground as he leaned under his bed. Yes! He remembered correctly! His fingers snagged the worn straps of his travel bag and he yanked the thing free from the depths of the underside of the bed. "I'll wear this and you can ride either in it or on top of it." In the end it took them five tries to finagle the best way for BD to travel. The flap ended up shoved inside the pack so it remained open for BD. His little friend had some weight, more than he remembered, but wearing the straps over both shoulders meant it was distributed a tad more evenly. Cal wasn't exactly in danger of toppling backward while walking. He tightened the straps up as much as he dared without them biting into his armpits and nodded to himself. This would do for now. Once that particular dire situation was resolved he took off towards the hangar. 

Walking quickly through the Temple halls, with a few moments of tripping on nothing, made his heart race erratically. He felt like he was going to get caught, and yet, he wanted to stop and stare at everything he had lost. Memories overlapped his vision at various points, causing him to tighten his grip on the leather straps. He should have grabbed gloves, he realized belatedly, but there was no time to turn back. He needed to move faster, he had to beat General Kenobi to the hangar. He could sense the Temple waking up around him as light started to filter in through the windows. If he made a run for it he would probably end up sounding like a herd of rampaging splox. He settled on walking just a tad faster and ducking behind various pillars when people entered the hall he was using. Thankfully not too many people were wandering the halls, but still by the time he made it to the hangar he just wanted to lie down on the floor and not move. 

A nap...a nap sounded amazing.

Sneaking around was way more exhausting as a youngling it seemed. 

"That's the ship," he told his faithful companion. Now that he saw the ship from his unwanted vision up close his stomach sank. There was no way he could hide in there without the General noticing, plus it would be really uncomfortable. His gaze drifted to a slightly larger transport and he frowned. "How do we force him to take that one instead without getting caught," he asked BD as more of a means of thinking out loud. Silence rang as they both pondered the problem. He suddenly dropped his fist into the palm of his other hand as he grinned. "Sabotage," he remarked at the exact same time as BD. 

Cal knelt down and carefully leaned to the side so BD could hop out of the bag and once his friend was free the little droid scampered up into the ship. Cal glanced towards the hangar door and sent a silent pray to the Force to help them out. They couldn't get caught now, not when they were clearly doing whatever the Force needed them to do. Kamino was the home planet of the vod'e, a place he wasn't exactly looking forward to going to, but he wasn't sure why he needed to get there. What was so important about that place? Why did he need to go with General Kenobi? Cal was trying to dig through all the memories he had previously ignored to try and find an answer. 

If the Force could send him unwanted visions then why couldn't it just yell the answer at him? He was tired, actually bordering on cranky, and he wanted to go home. The Temple hadn't been his home in a long time, no real place had, but somewhere in the future was the Mantis. His home, his family, and he wanted back. He wanted to eat Greez's salty cooking and listen to Cere's stories, he wanted to just spend time with Merrin, but instead he was stuck jumping at ever mechanical creak he heard. BD finally crowed victory just before the ship made a horrible clunking sound. Sparks flew and BD jumped into Cal's arms. The impact hurt. He stumbled back a few steps while wincing. Yeah, this was definitely going to take some getting used to. They moved quickly to sabotage the remaining ships, except the one they needed General Kenobi to take, and once the work was done, and he had sent a silent apology to the mechanics, he helped BD back into the pack. They managed to scramble onto the ship just as he heard the sound of someone entering the hangar. Cal wrestled the Force around him, masking himself as best he could, and waited.

A faint thought flashed across his mind and he bit back a frustrated sound. He had wanted more time! Why couldn't he have woken up a few days earlier so he could see his friends? He was leaving for Kamino without even getting the chance to embrace Caleb. It wasn't fair. None of this was. 

Cal burrowed further into a wire compartment and did his best not to give into his emotions. He could see his friends when he got back. All thoughts of what he selfishly wanted vanished when he heard footsteps in the cargo hold near him. His heart seemed to stop. The sound of steps seemed to grow softer before he heard the ramp seal shut. 

The Force hummed happily. 

Well, at least someone was happy, Cal thought mulishly just before the sound of the ship powering up filled his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And off to Kamino we go!!!! Hopefully?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We did it, buddy," he said with near euphoric relief. They hadn't been caught! BD let out a faint cheer and then promptly asked what was next. "Uh, find...whatever the Force wants us to find?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a hot mess. That finale though...
> 
> I needed to write to get some feels out. Y'all welcome.

He must have fallen asleep because Cal found himself jerking painfully into awareness when he heard footsteps crossing the cargo hold again. The sound of wind mixed with rain echoed inside the ship and for one painful moment he thought he was back on Bracca. BD squirmed in his arms, yanking him from that thought, and everything crashed into clarity. 

Right, he was in the past and he had snuck on General Kenobi's ship. 

He bit his lower lip as he waited for the steps to either vanish or stop in front of his hiding place. It was far too late for the General to take him back to Coruscant, but if he was caught now then he could be locked up in the ship. His arms tightened around his friend as they both gazed at the grating covering their hiding spot. Naturally, his nose began to itch, and Cal did everything in his power not to sneeze. 

Sneezing would get him caught.

He rubbed as silently as he could at the side of his nose. Kriff, there was this awful tickling. Why wouldn't it go away?

The sound of the footsteps grew distant and different. It took a second, but he realized they were descending down the ramp and out into what he assumed was Kamino. A moment passed and then he couldn't hear the footsteps anymore. The sneeze ripped out of him instantly and a tad painfully. His eyes watered. BD chirped concern and they both waited for General Kenobi to appear. A minute slowly dragged out into another and then another. The General didn't appear. No one appeared. Cal cautiously cast out with his senses to see if anyone was around. 

Nothing. 

Oh, thank the stars.

"We did it, buddy," he said with near euphoric relief. They hadn't been caught! BD let out a faint cheer and then promptly asked what was next. "Uh, find...whatever the Force wants us to find?" 

He twisted to work at removing the grating and winced at the prickling sensation in his legs. Inactivity sure could be annoying. Cal hit his thighs a few times to get some feeling back, BD helped by headbutting his side. Once he was sure he could move without anymore spikes of feeling he set about freeing them from their hiding spot. He hooked his fingers through the grating and carefully eased the metal down and to the side. BD hoped free and set about exploring the cargo hold. 

BD scanning things brought a smile to his face.

Some things, it seemed, didn't change.

Cal took the chance to stretch when he climbed free and paused midturn. His back wasn't popping. He frowned before twisting this way and that a few more times. Nothing. Actually, he realized, he didn't feel like he needed to ease pressure in his spine. That was perhaps the only perk to being little again, the ability to not feel like he was stiff when he woke up.

"No point hiding," he knelt down and raised his arm so BD could slam into the side of his forearm. This time they got the carry situation on the first try and he only had to readjust the strap on the pack a little to keep it comfortable. A howl like noise drew his attention to the open exit. Wind was whipping rain into the edge of the cargo hold in such a way that it was giving Cal a faintly bad feeling. The wind was strong and he was not exactly large. Would he get blown around out there? Well, he thought, only one way to find out. He scowled before racing straight off the ship. Water slapped him in the face, stinging painfully, and he stumbled. Boots slipped on the slick landing platform. Cal swore hard as he scrambled to keep some semblance of balance. The run across the platform took longer than he wanted thanks to a few moments of being blown in the wrong direction. His fingers clung hard to the edge of the doorway and he tried to turn enough for BD to slice the controls. 

Inside.

They needed to get inside.

If he got blown off the edge of the platform he would definitely die.

BD yelled over the rain and then the door flew open. Cal tumbled inside, closing his eyes against the sudden brightness. Why was everything so white? The hallway, at least he thought it was a hallway, was glowing. 

A faint nudging feeling from the Force had him moving. Wet footprints trailed behind him, along with a faint line of water from his clothes. The signs of his passing would thankfully vanish, but he still cursed how the fabric of his tunics held onto water. They were going to take forever to dry. He kept walking, despite his discomfort, and kept his gaze fixed ahead, all while letting the Force guide him. The longer he went without seeing anyone the more unnerved he became. 

This whole place was creepy on a new level.

His fingers tightened to the point of hurting around the straps of his pack. Portions of the wall seemed to scream at him. If he just reached out and touched- no. He didn't have time to lose himself in his power. He wasn't even sure he would still be able to control the skill in his current body. He'd test things out later, when he wasn't sneaking around some place he didn't know.

It was suddenly like walking into an invisible wall. Cal just stopped. Any attempt at raising a leg to take one more step forward just failed. BD inquired if Cal had lost power and he snorted with mild amusement. Well, if he wasn't supposed to go forward then perhaps it was time to turn? He spun on his heel and winced at the loud squeak that came from the bottom of his boot. Wet soles were loud things. As a youngling he may have created that noise on purpose to make his friends laugh, but now was not the time for such sounds.

"Sorry," he muttered to BD. His droid just did a version of a laugh. The noise was still funny it seemed. Cal rolled his eyes with a fond shake of his head. BD had a weird sense of humor, just like Caleb.

There was a door in front of him he realized. 

Cal leaned his head back to stare at the door. There. That was the one he wanted. What he needed was behind that door, he just knew it! The Force was singing softly.

Did he just knock?

Cal let go of one of the straps and raised a hand towards the door. He froze just before his knuckles could collide with the door. The Force leaned against his back. Impaitent, demanding. Right, he needed to just knock. He sank his teeth into his lower lip and slammed his fist into the door. He knocked like he was running out of time. The Force urged him to knock harder and he did. He was about to strike the door again when it finally opened. His eyes widen.

"What-" 

_A gloved hand snagged his and they both started screaming._

_They couldn't run as power ripped through them._

_Again._

_They had to try again._

_There were things to fix._

Cal yelled as the other boy slammed into his midsection. BD began swearing before freeing itself from the pack. The droid bolted into the room behind the door, yelling for help, and he focused on trying to push Fett off of him. He wasn't sure how he knew this was the stupid bounty hunter, but he just did. 

Boba Fett was the reason he had even been in that damn room. 

"You kriffing-" A fist caught him in the lip. Cal promptly retaliated by landing a punch against Fett's cheek. They were a mess of flailing limbs and angry words on the hallway floor. His clothes were hampering him slightly, but it was his size really messing him up. Following through on any of the moves he was landing was not exactly going well. He was relieved that Boba was having the same issue. Good. That made this an even fight.

"Boba," someone snapped as they walked out of the door with BD right behind them. The voice sounded familiar, but he was more focused on trying to pry Boba's fingers off the side of his face. "What is going on?"

Boba changed tactics and bit him, hard, on his forearm. Cal punched him in the eye. The world lurched and then a yelp escaped him as he found himself jerked upward into the air by the back of his soaked tunic. His limbs dangled uselessly while water dripped from him. A few drops of blood splattered against the pristine floor. Oh, Boba had managed to break skin. That wasn't good.

He glanced out of the corner of his eyes and blanched.

The General had arrived. Yeah, he was in trouble. The fact he was being held up in the air with usage of the Force while Kenobi crossed his arms over his chest foretold of a long lecture in his future. His chest tightened painfully. He hadn't been lectured by a Jedi Master in years.

"Well," General Kenobi drawled out with nearly hidden durasteel in his voice. "It appears we have a bit of a situation, don't we?"

Cal snarled at Boba and Boba snarled back. 

"Everyone. Inside. Now," the strange adult ordered. Cal glanced towards the man and froze. 

"Osik," he breathed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feral children be feral. Welp, that meeting didn't go well, now did it? The children are fighting!!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Karking jettise," Jango grumbled as he pointed to a rather utilitarian looking couch. "Both of you feral adike sit while I get the medpac."
> 
> "Lek, buir." Boba glared up at Obi-Wan with such intensity that he found himself wondering what he had done to the young boy. His eyebrows began to rise towards his hairline as Boba actually snagged the Initiate's hand and dragged him off towards the couch. Well, it appeared they were done fighting for the moment. Sweet Force, a cup of tea was sorely needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV change!!!! Obi-Wan has a headache and some thoughts!

He had a moment of fearing his Padawan had somehow shown up on Kamino, which meant Senator Amidala would have to be around, but the mop of red hair gave him pause. Obi-Wan wanted to drop his face into his hands and curse younglings that were missing from the Temple. He was going to get blamed for this development, somehow. 

Jango Fett was ordering everyone into the apartment and he got the feeling it was for more than one reason. If he had to guess the bounty hunter had a secure home, a place where they could talk without fear of unwanted listeners. He dropped the youngling to the ground before moving to grab a fistful of the back of the soaked tunic. If this child was anything like Anakin then he had to prevent them from getting a chance to run away. 

"Yes, I think that is a marvelous idea," he said in a clipped tone before nudging the boy slightly forward. He could see the annoyance on the pale face, but he couldn't sense said feelings. The boy, what was his name again, had a shocking control over his shielding. That was a tad perplexing and something he would have to investigate later. 

"This is your fault," the one named Boba snapped at the youngling in his grip. 

"Yeah, tell yourself that, Fett," the youngling quipped back with a smirk. 

Obi-Wan felt a headache growing behind his eyes that oddly wasn't named Anakin for once.

He had come to Kamino to track the bounty hunter down but instead had discovered the clones. He had also stumbled upon an Initiate brawling with a strange child in the hallway. It was safe to say that things had been going wrong since well before he had landed on Kamino. Somehow the ship he was supposed to take found itself with technical difficulties, as did all the ships around it, and he had been forced to take one that was far too big for this mission. Had the stowaway somehow managed to sabotage all of the ships? That was a remarkable show of tactician skills, but he found it a little hard to swallow that one so young possessed that skill. Well, no, some children were prodigies, but the Temple didn’t exactly teach the promising young Jedi the fine art of ruining someone else’s day. 

"Karking jettise," Jango grumbled as he pointed to a rather utilitarian looking couch. "Both of you feral adike sit while I get the medpac."

"Lek, buir." Boba glared up at Obi-Wan with such intensity that he found himself wondering what he had done to the young boy. His eyebrows began to rise towards his hairline as Boba actually snagged the Initiate's hand and dragged him off towards the couch. Well, it appeared they were done fighting for the moment. Sweet Force, a cup of tea was sorely needed. He was sorely out of his element and he despised that feeling. Wrapping his hands around a nice warming beverage would go far to help him calm down during this strange situation. Acknowledging and moving on from his various emotions at the moment would take far too long so he settled on shoving them aside. He would meditate later after he sorted this all out.

He pursed his lips into a line as he watched the children whispering to each other, fighting forgotten for the moment. How quickly the young moved past moments, something he both envied and worried about.

"Beeyup, boop," a droid informed him. Obi-Wan blinked and glanced down at the droid talking to him. He didn't quite understand what was being said, his binary was not the best, and he found himself giving an apologetic smile. "Bweep?"

"Ah, I'm sorry, little one, I don't quite understand."

"He said you are leaving an ocean on the floor," Jango's rough timber filled the space. Obi-Wan blinked and glanced down at the puddle growing around his boots. Ah, he was indeed.

"Hardly my fault, it appears to be raining out and I quite forgot my poncho," he retorted in as dry of a tone as he could manage. Jango snorted before physically pushing the boys apart so he could sit between them. The medpac was settled on his lap all while he exuded clear displeasure. The air practically crackled with the feeling.

"Arm," came the order. Obi-Wan was shocked when the Initiate complied instantly and held out the injured arm, wound facing towards the bounty hunter. 

"A stim is fine, don't waste bacta- ow!" Stim? Where in the stars had that boy gotten information on those awful things? 

"Careful of Cal's hands," Boba interjected while moving to dig through the medpac. He held up a roll of gauze and made a faint face for some reason. "He gets lost-"

"Shut up, I do not," Cal snapped. He turned his face away from the swab being pressed against some scratch marks on his cheek and shot a glare at Boba. Boba grinned viciously. Jango tsked loudly and applied more pressure to the swab. "I'm fine! I've dealt with worse-" 

"Pardon," Obi-Wan finally put himself in the conversation. "What do you mean you've had worse, Initiate?" He was shocked to see both Boba and Cal freeze at that question. It was the look the two shared that made him feel a large sense of unease. He adjusted his sleeves and hid his hands in them, the material was ladened with moisture and clung uncomfortably to his fingers. Fidgeting, it seemed, was going to need to wait a bit until he dried more. "Also, where did you learn that swear word earlier?"

Jango's hand stilled before a loud snort escaped him. "Not keeping tabs on your ad? I thought you jettise were hover parents."

His-

What?

Obi-Wan wondered if it was possible to choke on air. "I think there is a misunderstanding-"

"The General isn't my father!" 

General. 

The word echoed in his mind and he opened his mouth to ask for further clarification, but a sudden movement had him waiting. Boba slapped his hand to his forehead with the flare of an actor and groaned dramatically. Cal simply looked confused for a mere second, trying to figure out what he had said wrong. He could practically see tiny gears turning inside that head and then something clicked. "Oh, uh, I mean Master Kenobi has a different padawan- I'm just-" 

"A real pain in my shebs," Boba snarled while lunging across his father's lap to try and get at Cal. The tiny droid said something that Obi-Wan thought roughly translated as go for the eyes, but he wasn't positive. He really did need to learn droidese. 

"Stand down," the words cracked across the room and he had to resist the urge to obey that voice. Boba and Cal both stopped their attempt at fighting and glanced up at Jango with matching expressions. Their bodies were tense, focus fixed, and they didn’t even seem to notice they had their fingers tangled together. Most likely an attempt on the part of one of them to stop another claw attack to the face. Dread filled his very bones for a moment as he studied the two younglings. 

They looked like tiny soldiers. 

"I think an explanation is in order," he remarked while crossing his arms. Both younglings glanced at him and then each other, almost as if they were silently communicating. What happened next was headache-inducing as their panicked voices overlapped. The volume raised as they tried to talk over each other, the pitch even went up an octave or three, and Obi-Wan wondered if he should step in. They were both talking so fast at each and somehow, he wasn’t entirely sure how, Jango just kept doctoring the various wounds the two sported. Then one simple word caught his attention. _Sith._ One of the voices had uttered that word and he held a hand up to stop the onslaught of noise. Cal shut his mouth first, Boba a mere second later. 

Both of them focused on him with uncomfortable intensity.

Jango let out a sigh of relief before flicking his fingers against first Boba’s forehead and then Cal’s. Both boys grumbled while rubbing their foreheads with matching sullen looks, the fixed gazes effectively disrupted. 

“One at a time, if you please-”

“I think,” Jango interrupted. “They need a change of clothes. Boba, loan a set of sleep clothes to your friend here. The jetii and I will wait.” Obi-Wan opened his mouth to argue, but the words died on the tip of his tongue. Fire lived in the eyes of the man he had hunted down. Any argument at this moment would go poorly and wouldn't be worth the effort. He inclined his head in acknowledgment and did nothing to hide the faint smile that appeared as he watched the boys slip off the couch. Boba had snagged Cal’s hand again before they were running off into what he assumed was Boba’s room. The droid followed after them like a tame tooka.

“Jetii,” Jango said in a voice that commanded attention once they were alone. “You’ve brought trouble to my doorstep. Why?”

“Why did you attempt to kill Senator Amidala,” he countered with a cheerful tone. An outsider would have thought he was attempting to talk about flowers, not near murder. “You left a clue behind and I found myself curious.” His lips turned up further when Jango actually laughed. The sound was deep and promised many interesting future interactions. 

“I was hired. Nothing more, nothing less. I am a simple man, trying to make a living for me and my boy.” The sound of the medpac being closed filled the apartment. “So you didn’t come for your army?”

“Ah, about that-” That was naturally when the boys came barreling back into the room. 

“Buir, we need dinner,” Boba blurted out. “Make Kenobi help you.” 

“Boba,” Cal said before making an elaborate hand motion. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow as Boba countered with a different motion. What in the stars was going on? Jango was watching with mild exasperation etched into his features. 

“Manners, both of you,” Jango finally said. He tossed the medpac towards his son, clearly telling him to put it away with that motion. More might have been said, but everyone ended up staring at Cal when his stomach let out a noise that rivaled a tiny purrgil. Cal winced as he wrapped his arms around his midsection. The poor boy changed a few different shades of pink from his face to the tip of his ears. Obi-Wan quickly smothered a laugh with his hand and cleared his throat to further hide the mirth. 

“Youngling,” he asked once he was positive the amusement wouldn’t seep into his voice. “When was the last time you actually ate?”

“Uh,” came the response, and then Boba was snickering. 

Further lectures and questions could wait until after they all ate something it seemed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is going to be a mixture of fluff and angst- oh, and lots of chaos. Chaos and feral children go hand and hand!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It isn’t my fault,” Cal said softly before taking a bit of fruit he had been given as a snack, drawing Boba’s attention back to the Jedi. He scowled and twisted to stare at the datapad. The show had been interesting as a kid, but now it seemed kind of dumb. 
> 
> “It was your fault for trying to save my life,” he finally countered. “What were you even thinking?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we have some Boba POV! The children are plotting, warning, the children are plotting!!!

He hadn’t been surprised when Cal Kestis showed up at their door, though he had wondered faintly how he got there, he had been surprised by the feeling of anger that had overtaken him. Boba had lunged without a second thought at the person who had created this mess. 

Now they were sitting side by side on the floor of the small living room while buir and Kenobi were in the kitchenette. He fiddled with his datapad for a moment and finally found a holoserial to pull up. He cranked the volume up to help mask their voices. A glance over his shoulder showed the actual adults talking while gesturing at some seasoning packets. Kenobi looked at least a fraction more comfortable thanks to the clothes buir finally loaned him. Boba had been forced to use his tooka face to the full extreme and tossed in a bit about all the water wasn’t good for the furniture before his buir had begrudgingly offered up the clothes. Cal adding in a bit about it wouldn’t do for anyone to catch a cold had Kenobi agreeing with mild annoyance. 

Adults didn’t seem to like it when supposed children knew better than them.

“It isn’t my fault,” Cal said softly before taking a bit of fruit he had been given as a snack, drawing Boba’s attention back to the Jetii. He scowled and twisted to stare at the datapad. The show had been interesting as a kid, but now it seemed kind of dumb. 

“It was your fault for trying to save my life,” he finally countered. “What were you even thinking?” He glared at Cal from the corner of his eyes and paused. It was strange not to see the telltale blaster bolt scar on that face. Kark, he looked so young, but his eyes told a different story. Boba had always noticed Cal’s eyes because they were the window to his hurting soul. 

“I didn’t,” the other admitted while shifting enough to let BD settle comfortably. The droid appeared to be actually watching the holoshow. “I just did what felt right.” 

“Ugh, my buir is right. Karking jettise!” Boba threw his hands in the air before stilling. Wait, were the adults focusing on them? He glanced over his shoulder again and felt faint relief when he noticed them both looking at a pot with matching annoyed expressions. His lips twitched with an almost smile. If buir ended up with Kenobi thinking he was worth saving then he wouldn’t have to watch- The smile died and he swore. Cal glanced at him with clear concern. Boba quickly signed he was fine and watched as Cal bit his lower lip before nodding. The kid didn’t believe him. Smart.

“Right, we can’t just blurt out we know the future and you clearly are just going about this the way you go about everything- like an idiot,” Boba said in an exhausted voice. “I mean you knew it had to be a trap and you still showed up to save that stupid village. I had them all paid off-”

“It felt right,” Cal argued. “And I always have a plan-” Boba’s loud snort stopped the words from continuing. He motioned for the red-haired jetii to continue while a smirk took up residence on his small face. “As I was saying, I always have a plan and it is to survive.”

“That is an awful plan.”

They settled into silence for a moment. Boba didn’t know what Cal was thinking about, but he was spending the moment trying to figure out how to manipulate the adults into not going to Geonosis. Everything would go wrong the second boots touched that sandy planet. He had looked at the stardate when he had found himself forced into this younger body and had been a mixture of relieved and horrified. He had the chance to stop his buir’s death, but he also had the chance of reliving every single horror again. Hate danced with anger inside his chest at the jettise. They had taken everything from him, but- “Ugh,” he cried out before punching Cal in the shoulder. The jetii winced and shot him a glare.

“What the kriff was that for?” His companion rubbed his shoulder but didn’t attempt to counterattack. Probably smart. Buir was clearly at the point where he’d pick them both up and lock them in the bedroom.

“For making things complicated!” Cal Kestis was constantly putting himself in trouble to save others and follow whatever Code he adhered to, it really annoyed Boba because he actually respected the di’kut. 

Honor was everything. 

“Right, back to the plan. We can’t just blurt everything out at once. We need to drop hints, make them ask questions. We also need to stop my buir from leaving,” he drummed his fingers against the small table and mulled that bit over. Whatever was being cooked smelled delicious and even his stomach started to grumble. He snagged the fruit from Cal's hand and took a bite. A faint sound of displeasure escaped the other, but Cal merely reached for a new piece to eat. “Kenobi, I think, is already catching on to things. Buir...has been looking at me funny since I woke up. We act like things are somewhat normal and if you slip up too much I’ll let you know.”

“Why am I the one who is going to slip up too much,” Cal asked in an offended tone. “I hid for five years without anyone discovering I was a Jedi-”

“The General isn’t my father,” Boba cried out in his best mimicry of the jetii sitting next to him. Cal promptly punched him in the shoulder while BD called him names. There was a pause and then they both burst out laughing. The whole situation was ridiculous and he still wasn’t entirely sure what to make of things. This was his chance to stop the galaxy from falling into chaos. He was angry with the jettise, but he had also seen first hand what happened when those peacekeepers were gone. 

He could have had a worse partner to work with. He could have been stuck with Windu. 

He rubbed his eyes as he did his best to calm down. Feelings seemed more intense for some reason, but at least Cal seemed to be from suffering from the same predicament. “Look,” he managed to say once he was sure he wasn’t going to injure himself from laughing. “We might not like it, but we are working together now. The war hasn’t started yet and we need to stop it...or at least control it. Just follow my lead for now.”

BD glanced up at Cal and then over at Boba before chiming in that there wasn’t much else they could do at the moment. Cal snorted before shrugging. “Yeah, I guess I can handle that for now. I’m still getting used to...this.” He motioned to his body. “I haven’t even really tried to use any of my powers yet.”

“Don’t, not yet. We can spar with each other to get used to our new sizes and then we can focus on seeing what jettise osik you can still do. Right now though? We need to figure out how to get Kenobi and my buir on friendly terms.” The look Cal gave him was one of confusion and Boba snickered. “They need to work together to save the vod’e right?” Cal nodded. “Then they need to get along. We need to get along. When this is over? We can go back to being enemies.”

“...we were never enemies,” Cal protested. “We just didn’t...get along.”

“Uh-huh, anyway, Operation Buir Kenobi has already started and you need to help.” If he somehow got buir to get past his zealous hatred of the jettise then things would go a bit smoother. That was going to be trickery, much trickery. 

“Boys,” buir’s voice called. “Dinner.” 

Boba and Cal scrambled up at once, leaving the datapad behind, and hurried towards the table. He motioned for Cal to take one seat before promptly taking the seat right next to him. Buir gave him a slightly questioning look before making sure they both had a large helping of food on their plates. Oh, gross, why were there so many vegetables? He knew he shouldn’t be picky, but he still set about removing each cooked vegetable from his plate. He was so focused on putting them on Cal’s plate that he nearly missed the way both buir and Kenobi were watching him. He glanced up when he finally sensed their stares and blinked. 

“Right, I need a drink.” Buir promptly turned around and went back to the kitchenette to grab a bottle with two small glasses. Boba paused in setting a spicy looking green leaf on Cal’s plate and watched with interest. Two glasses. That was a great start! Kenobi muttered something before sliding into one of the empty seats of the table. Jango returned and set the glasses down next to Kenobi’s elbow. He yanked the stopper out of the bottle with his teeth and radiated aggravation while pouring a clear liquid into the glasses. Boba whistled faintly as a whiff of the alcohol reached his nose. That was the strong stuff! 

Boba and Cal both watched while the stopper was set on the table and then the bottle was. This was fascinating. Operation Buir Kenobi was already moving along perfectly. Jango picked up one of the glasses and motioned for Kenobi to do the same. Boba could see the jetii trying to decide if it was poison or not, but he must have settled on not caring since he picked the glass up. Both of them knocked the powerful liquid back and slammed their cups down on the table. 

“Do we get some,” he asked as innocently as possible. 

The looks he received were well worth the question. He was positive both Kenobi and buir were about to start yelling so he just took a large bite of the spiced meat that remained on his plate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tired Space Dad is tired, can you tell?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You'll leave after dinner," he informed the jettise at his table. 
> 
> Kenobi raised an eyebrow and almost looked like he was going to argue the fact. He was honestly surprised when the jetii merely gave a faint nod. He knew the jetii had questions, questions he didn't want to deal with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jango time!!!! 
> 
> He wants to drink a liquor store.

There was a jetii and jet'ika in his apartment, at his table, breaking bread with him. It wasn't right. Needless to say, Jango was having a bad day.

The sound of fork tines scraping against plates filled the space and annoyed him in a frustratingly new way. Jango pushed some grains off to the side while he watched Boba and the jet'ika from beneath his lashes. They were giving him a new kind of headache with their behavior. Cal was just methodically eating the vegetables on his plate with a sort of indifferent look on his soft features. That was the look of someone who was used to eating things they didn't like. Soldiers didn't get to be picky when they didn't know when their next meal would be- except the jet'ika shouldn't have that mindset. His gaze drifted to Kenobi and he noted the man was also keeping an eye on the boys.

Maybe the jetii wasn't so useless?

"You'll leave after dinner," he informed the jettise at his table. 

Kenobi raised an eyebrow and almost looked like he was going to argue the fact. He was honestly surprised when the jetii merely gave a faint nod. He knew the jetii had questions, questions he didn't want to deal with. The whole business involving the Senator left a sour taste in his mouth. Actually, if he was being honest, that rotten flavor had started when he had agreed to become a template for an army. 

He wanted the chances at airing his errors gone from this place. Let them go and ruin the galaxy while he worked at surviving. 

It really was a shame he fully knew Kenobi was lying with that motion of agreement. The jetii would be a problem and try to dig up answers.

"No," Boba slammed his fork down on the table. Well, that was an interesting reaction. Jango turned his full attention on his heir and raised an eyebrow. He hadn't actually expected Boba to protest. 

"No," he repeated in a questioning tone. Boba and Cal shared yet another look like the clear conspirators they were. His ad was sheltered, and yet, he acted like he knew the jet'ika. He acted like they had been through things together. Which, if he was being logical, was ridiculous. There was no way they had met before this. 

So why did they both use hand signs that they shouldn't know? Why did the jet'ika speak rough Mando'a? 

"They'll be tired after dinner, buir," Boba said calmly. A half truth. The stew did tend to make people content, which could lead to feelings of laziness. "And I promised Cal I would spar with him-"

"You did what," the jetii interrupted in a shocked tone. "Initiate, you've been away from the Temple long enough without permission. We need to get you back." Jango agreed. The jet'ika needed to be returned to his clan before something happened. 

"I can't," Cal said. His forkful of vegetables paused before reaching his mouth. A sort of earnest look appeared on that young face and Jango wondered what osik was about to spill past those lips. As Boba nudged his friend and nodded ever so slightly he took the chance to take a swig of his beverage. "The Force doesn't want us to go back."

The stunned look on the jetii's face actually caused him to choke slightly on his drink. The man looked blindsided. He hadn't realized jettise actually experienced emotions like normal people. Jango coughed and then fixed both of the boys with a displeased look.

"Boys, what game are you playing?" 

Matching innocent looks hyper focused on him. They had weaponized their expressions. 

"I'm not lying," Cal said softly. "If we leave-" Words died on his lips as Boba leaned close, cupping a hand over his ear to whisper something. The jet'ika frowned before motioning for confirmation. Boba nodded and Jango narrowed his eyes. That didn't seem good. 

"Youngling," Kenobi said with a faint edge to his voice. "Explain yourself." 

Boba signed again for Cal to proceed. There was a mild look of panic and then a mask like stone was falling over that face. A disturbing display of control.

Jango had a bad feeling. 

"If we leave… you'll run." Okay, the jet'ika wasn't wrong. He was already planning on packing up and taking Boba somewhere else. Somewhere safe. "And you'll die." A drop of water would have sounded like a plasma grenade going off with how silent the room became. Jango eyed the boy, trying to see some sort of lie, but all he saw was the cold truth. He set his fork down carefully on his plate before resting his elbows on the table, hands clasped just under his chin.

_And you'll die._

"Will I now," he asked calmly. Cal gave a quick nod before finally shoving the forkful of vegetables into his mouth. Smart jet'ika. Harder to answer questions when one's mouth was full.

"You've had a vision," the jetii asked in such a shocked tone that Jango suddenly wondered if the stories he had heard were wrong. He had heard the jettise could see bits of the future. That was one reason Galidraan angered him so much, they should have seen what would happen after that horrific event. They should have seen that the whole thing was a twisted event. 

The jettise should have just known better.

"Uh, no," Cal said sheepishly. He sank down in his seat slightly, clearly uncomfortable. "That isn't- I don't...usually have visions." 

"Then how do you know Mister Fett will die," Kenobi inquired with far more patience in his voice then Jango thought possible. Kark, he was going to need another drink soon. 

"Oh, come on," Boba blurted out. "You both aren't this blind!" He threw his hands up in disgust and then Cal was there, whispering something to calm him down. Jango frowned as he studied the two of them. They weren't exactly friends, they weren't exactly enemies, but they were something. 

There was a blueprint growing in his mind, built upon little things. Words, motions, things the boys weren't saying. What was forming was impossible, but he couldn't help wondering if it was true.

"Jet'ika," he barked out. The boy glanced at him with a curious expression. "How old are you?" Confusion replaced the curiosity. 

"Uh, sevente- hnngh. Osik." Cal shot a glare at Boba, who had just rather roughly elbowed him in the side. That was definitely going to leave a bruise.

"Language, youngling. Answer the question, how old are you?" Jango flashed Kenobi a faint smile before he realized they were basically working together to get to the bottom of why the children were acting so peculiar. That bothered him. They shouldn't have teamed up so easily. He didn't work with jettise, even ones that were easy on the eyes. 

"I'm ten," Boba said with a pointed look at his young companion. Cal, for his part, seemed to pause and think something over. 

"I'm...nine?" 

Had the jet'ika just done mental math? 

Why would he not know his age until he knew Boba's- Jango breathed out hard through his nose suddenly. Well, osik indeed. The jet'ika was old enough to know his own age, but he seemed so confused by the fact he was so young. The answer had to be that he wasn't supposed to be nine. 

"The jetii can sleep on the couch, Boba share your bed with your friend," he finally said softly. "We will revisit this discussion in the morning. Finish eating."

Kenobi opened his mouth to say more and Jango shook his head. No, they weren't going to question the adike. They, unfortunately, needed to talk and figure out how to best approach Boba and Cal. That meant they'd need to plot after the boys went to bed. He wasn't looking forward to the conversation, but he had a feeling they needed to be on the same page. 

The rest of the meal was eaten in silence. He noticed when Cal started to do the jerky little nod of exhaustion and then he noticed Boba start a few moments later. The two somehow ended up leaning against each other, plates empty, and eyes heavy with sleep. Ah, they didn't have to wait as long as he thought. Jango sighed before moving to deal with the boys. He stared down at them with fond exasperation. "Come on. Bed, you two." They muttered something in unison, but made no attempt at moving. 

Tired, indeed. 

He hoisted Boba up onto one shoulder and then hesitated. Did he grab the jet'ika? "I can carry him," Kenobi started to say. Well, that settled that. Jango picked Cal up around his midsection and gave the jetii a look. 

"I can handle them. Clear the table." And with those words he moved to go put the troublesome boys to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, they have ideas of what is going on jt seems...


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-wan took a long pull from the bottle he held. The jetii didn’t even flinch. Annoyingly impressive.
> 
> “You’ve thought the same then,” he inquired before finally taking a drink of his own alcohol. The taste burned at first and then smoothed out. The flavor was close to diving straight into an icy body of water. Shocking and then pleasant on a hot day. “They’ve said some things…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What up party people? I have updated the tags and played with them slightly. Uh, I am sure you will notice there is now a M/M ship- that I don't think anyone is surprised by?

This was a situation he had never thought he’d find himself in but wasn’t that just how the whole evening was going? 

Jango cracked the top off on a bottle before handing it over to the jetii. The faint smile he got in return gave him pause. Clearly, he was mentally exhausted if he found that smile endearing. Right, he needed to focus. 

“I think I may be suffering from a head trauma, but I have a theory,” he grumbled while opening his own bottle of liquor. It was well past the time of needing glasses. This conversation was a drink straight from the bottle type of situation. 

“Ah, would that theory perhaps have anything to do with the fantastical idea of time travel?” Obi-wan took a long pull from the bottle he held. The jetii didn’t even flinch. Annoyingly impressive.

“You’ve thought the same then,” he inquired before finally taking a drink of his own alcohol. The taste burned at first and then smoothed out. The flavor was close to diving straight into an icy body of water. Shocking and then pleasant on a hot day. “They’ve said some things…”

“You mean they’ve dropped well-placed clues. Your son seems to be the mastermind. Those two, or at least one of them, are attempting to manipulate us into falling into the answer. The tactic is quite advanced. If we come to the conclusion ourselves then they don’t have to deal with the headache of actually convincing us.” Obi-Wan was annoyingly coherent and well-spoken despite half his bottle already somehow gone. The jetii sitting across from him was clearly a different breed from the ones he had met before.

Jango stared at the closed bedroom door as he rolled that idea over in his head. Cal hadn’t known his own age, Cal said he died after fleeing Kamino, Cal had crudely signed for Boba to basically eat a frag mine- a snort of laughter escaped him and he caught Kenobi giving him an inquisitive look. He waved a hand through the air, dismissing the interest in his sudden mirth. If he was to entertain the idea that the adike were, indeed, from the future then he was going to have to readjust his plans. How much did they know? Why was Boba working with the jet’ika? 

What had gone wrong?

“Jetii,” he finally drawled out while casting his gaze back towards the man. There was a moment where he just stared, braining misfiring as he took in the sight of the jetii in his clothing. A polite throat-clearing from the other and he was restarting his brain. “We will unfortunately need to work together now.”

“Ah, how unfortunate indeed,” Kenobi said with a faint smirk. Those eyes seemed to twinkle with condescending merriment. 

“As I was saying,” he said before pausing to take another long drink from his bottle. The burn centered him. “We have to ask leading questions, get them to tell us things. I don’t want to just flat out say we know the truth. I want to see those brats squirm a bit for trying to pull a fast one. We give it two days before we corner them. I want to see how many more clues they give us.”

Kenobi choked on a mouthful of liquid. Jango couldn’t help smirking as the man coughed while turning a tad red in the face. Jettise all weren’t so perfect after all it seemed. That warmed him slightly, more than the alcohol, and he wasn't entirely sure why. 

“Are you sure that is wise,” Kenobi finally asked once he had managed not to die from coughing. That was probably a good thing, Jango would have been annoyed at having to drag the body all the way outside. Plus, then he would have had to adopt the jet’ika and that was just a bad idea. Boba and Cal, together all the time, would certainly spell the end of his sanity. “Actually, if you have a long-range communicator or the means to amplify mine I could contact someone at the Temple and see if there is indeed a missing Initiate. There is the slim chance one of the boys might not be who he says he is…” The words tapered off and he picked up on the clear doubt. Yeah, Jango also doubted that the jet’ika and Boba were lying.

Time travel, what a bunch of jettise osik.

“You keep it to the jet’ika, mention nothing else, am I clear?” He stood up without waiting for Kenobi to agree. This was a bad idea, letting the jetii contact someone, but he now had many questions needing answers. The fact he was now on his second bottle of liquor probably wasn’t helping his decision-making skills. It took a moment, but he found what was he looking for. The object of his quest was naturally in the junk drawer in the kitchenette. It was designed to have a comm clicked into it and amplify the signal. He hid it where he did because no one ever thought to look there. He didn’t trust the cloners, never would, and he made sure anything like this was where they’d never deem to paw through if they somehow managed to infiltrate his apartment.

He tossed the contraption at the jetii without warning and wasn’t a bit surprised when the man caught it easily. “Make your call.” 

Kenobi set his empty bottle down before moving to retrieve his comm from the small pile of personal items resting on the living room table. Cal’s pack sat open, taunting, and Jango wondered if it would just be faster to pry into the boy’s privacy by rummaging through the bag. His thoughts didn’t get to travel far down that route thanks to the jetii being fast at figuring out how to use the amplifier. He grabbed new bottles to drink and did his best to stay out of frame while Kenobi made his call. 

“Kenobi,” a voice crackled to life in the small apartment. “Do you have anything to report?”

“Ah, Mace, that is not exactly why I called,” Kenobi sat down gracefully on the couch, rather like he belonged there, and smiled pleasantly. Jango realized the jetii was enjoying this game of espionage. Strange. “I’ve run into a bit of a snag-” A loud groan escaped the comm followed by a faint swear word. His eyebrows climbed straight into his hair at this point. This evening was deadset on rocking his foundation of thought regarding the jettise. 

“What is it this time? Do we need to dissolve another marriage?” 

What?

“Not this time. No, I fear I may have helped an adventuresome Initiate leave the Temple,” Kenobi said smoothly without missing a beat. Wait, how many marriages had he found himself in on accident? Jango had a lot of questions now. 

“...You have Initiate Kestis? Oh thank the Force, I can call the Knights back. Obi-Wan, we were afraid he had wandered off and gotten trapped in a memory.” Something changed in Kenobi’s face and then a low whistle escaped him. What did the voice over the comm mean about getting trapped in a memory?

“I have him, but I fear I won’t be able to return him right away. Perhaps his teachers would be so kind as to send over some lesson modules so he doesn’t fall behind,” Kenobi’s words sounded careful now. Silence answered at first, then an impressive sigh that even Jango felt inside his chest. 

“I’ll see what I can do. Why are all my problems always centered around you?” Mace’s voice was beyond dry, but Kenobi still laughed. 

“You’d waste away from boredom if I didn’t keep you on your toes. Have you heard from my Padawan?”

“No, and I don’t want to. I’m hanging up since now I have to be the one to explain that you stole a youngling-”

“I hardly stole him- ah, he really did hang up.” Kenobi chuckled before powering down his comm again. “My thanks. It appears our young Cal is indeed missing from the Temple and a youngling.” Great. Just kriffing great. Jango made a face before walking over just enough to hold out a new bottle of booze to his houseguest. Time travel, they were being forced to believe time travel was real. 

“Are you all so...” He struggled for the words he wanted as the image in his head clashed with the reality next to him.

“Mm,” Kenobi asked while glancing at him from beneath fair lashes. Jango blinked as useless words churned in his head. Why wasn’t the jetii a walking statue? The way he had laughed earlier- 

“Nothing, forget it,” he said gruffly before doing his best to drown his thoughts with more booze. There was a faint sound and both of them turned towards the now open bedroom door. Red hair stood up at various angles while a small fist rubbed at sleep heavy eyes. Jango pulled the bottle away from his mouth and blinked. 

“Cal,” he asked and winced at how rough his voice sounded. What number bottle was this anyway? That was shoved aside as the boy just stood there, looking lost. He could hear Boba snoring and wondered if he was also taking up the whole bed. A sigh escaped him. “Hold this,” he told Kenobi as he handed his bottle over. Once his hands were free he set about picking the tiny jet’ika up. Kriff, he barely weighed anything. 

“You sleepwalking?” A faint head shake and a yawn. Cal rested his cheek against Jango’s shoulder. It was hard to believe that this small jet'ika was actually older- No, he wasn't going to think about that right now. He was going to focus on why the boy was out of bed. “Ah, a nightmare.” There was no denial, but he did notice that the boy flushed with embarrassment. Bullseye. “Boba’s snoring gives me nightmares too, don’t tell Boba.” He felt himself smile slightly when the boy in his arms let out a faint snort of amusement. 

Both jettise in his apartment were far too expressive. 

“Come on, let’s get you a pudding cup and then back to bed. Just shove Boba until he stops snoring next time.”

“Cal,” Kenobi called from his spot on the couch. “Did you pack gloves when you decided to go on a grand adventure?” The boy in his arms tensed slightly, balling his hands into fists. That would be a no. Why did it matter? Jango shifted his grip just enough so he could free a hand to grab one of Cal’s hands. They were cold, but not abnormally so. There was a faint sound from Kenobi, almost like a coughing laugh, and then a throat clearing. “That isn’t why he needs gloves, though I am sure he is cold. He was quite soaked for a bit.” 

He could hear the smile in that voice. Damn the jetii.

“Pudding cup and then back to bed,” he informed the jet’ika. “And then we will sort out the osik with gloves in the morning.” 

Hopefully, Cal would go back to bed easily and then they could get back to sorting out the groundwork of Operation Make Brats Fess Up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boba is gonna hella be jelly that Cal got a pudding cup and he didn't.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I still-" The feeling wasn't going away, but it wasn't screaming at him not to do this. 
> 
> "You owe me." Cal gave Boba a weird look. Owe him? For what? Annoyance appeared on the other's face again. "The pudding cup, you owe me for the pudding cup!"
> 
> He couldn't help the way his mouth fell open in shock. Boba was using the pudding cup against him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is Cal's POV! Also, this chapter has some darker memories- nothing like too intense, but figured I should warn you? He has some feels.

"Stop being a ik'aad and just give me a boost," Boba snapped. Annoyance flickered across that face and Cal found himself wondering if he should just run to the adults. 

"I just don't think this is a good idea," he finally said while BD gave an indifferent sound. BD was up for adventure but was also up for studying the adults more. BD wondered out loud if Jedi got those things called hangovers and both boys gave him unimpressed looks. Cal just had a bad feeling about this expedition, but he couldn't exactly explain why. The plan was simple. Boba seemed so certain. His gaze drifted towards the closed bedroom door as he frowned. Plans, well, plans weren't exactly his strong point so maybe he should just follow along?

"It's fine! I've snuck out plenty of times. Look, we will be back before they wake up. You said they were easily on their third bottle last night- we've got time." Boba motioned again to the air duct vent above the bed. "We can splice into the network with BD. The training terminals are going to be empty at this hour."

"I still-" The feeling wasn't going away, but it wasn't screaming at him not to do this. 

"You owe me." Cal gave Boba a weird look. Owe him? For what? Annoyance appeared on the other's face again. "The pudding cup, you owe me for the pudding cup!"

He couldn't help the way his mouth fell open in shock. Boba was using the pudding cup against him? What was he supposed to do while Jango babied him? Say no? Cal wasn't an idiot and he hadn't really had a pudding cup in years. If he had known his companion would throw such a snit about the stupid thing he would have asked for fruit or something. He made a rude face and didn't give Boba a warning as he used the Force to give him that boost. A few swear words left the small Mandalorian, but Boba made it into the vent. A faint bumping sound and then Boba was motioning for Cal to follow.

This was a bad idea. 

The feeling settled inside his chest, but he forged on ahead. He had survived worse feelings so he told himself this would be fine. 

BD was next and then Cal followed with a clear abuse of the Force. Not that the Force was giving him an indication of that, but old lessons were surfacing in his mind. What was once a still lake of suppressed things was starting to boil. Master Tapal's voice echoed in his mind, scolding him sternly. _Again, Padawan. It is lesson time._

“Couldn’t we have at least gotten out of our sleep clothes first,” he whispered as they began to crawl through the ductwork. The question was to distract himself from his own thoughts before they spiraled. Thinking of Master Tapal would only result in heartache. Boba glanced over his shoulder with a look that spoke volumes. He didn’t know how the question he asked was dumb, but he was under the impression it very much was. He made another rude face and Boba snickered softly. They crawled in silence and each time he set the palms of his hands against the frigid material of the ductwork he felt a faint sense of despair. 

This place was crying inside of his head.

Fear-sadness-determination-want. 

“Cal,” Boba hissed suddenly. Cal blinked and focused back on the task of keeping up. He had started to lag behind. 

His heart was starting to thunder in his chest as unwanted thoughts bubbled about. Would they run into any of the vod’e? Would he be able to handle seeing the vod'e so soon? The day of the purge had haunted his dreams for years. They had turned without a reason, they had felt different suddenly in the Force, something had been so wrong, and at the time he had been terrified. He hadn’t understood what was happening, still didn’t, and he now found himself worrying. Would it happen again? It had ripped a nasty path through his heart to watch his Master turn so quickly on the vod’e. The violence of the act had been like flimsi cuts. Small, almost unnoticed, but if left alone they’d fester and grow. 

The people he had cared about had-

Hands were grabbing his face and squeezing his cheeks together. Cal blinked hard and after a moment focused on Boba giving him a look of concern. 

“Are you with me,” came the strained question. 

He stared, trying to yank himself free of the suffocating vines of his thoughts, and finally gave a jerky nod. 

“Sorry, I just…” Words drifted off and BD hummed low. The droid wormed between them while continuing to hum in a comforting manner. 

“I know,” was all Boba said before letting go. Emotions danced behind those eyes and Cal knew Boba did understand. They were both having to battle memories. “We just need to complete this. In and out, right? Download the full map of this place. Download the files on the vod'e- and anything else that we have time to snag.” 

They took off again and he did his best to clear his mind. The action was sluggish, rather like his mind was fighting him, and he didn’t quite get why. He was a Jedi Knight now, he had repaired his connection, so why did this feel so frustrating? His mind was weighed down like there was an ocean on top of it for some reason. Cal had the rather impractical thought that he wanted to be back in the apartment eating a pudding cup. 

Pudding cups would have to wait until their mission was over.

It turned out getting into the room from the vent wasn’t that difficult and Boba swore it went a lot faster thanks to Cal’s jettii osik. He stood guard, trying not to bounce on the balls of his feet, while Boba and BD sliced into the network. How long would this take? His mind was coming up with plenty of ways that this could go wrong. A change of routine, an alarm, some hidden security measure-

“Whoa,” Boba muttered while BD trilled smugly. “Yeah, all of that. We can look over it later.” 

“How much more?” Cal didn’t even glance at them while asking his question. His focus was solely on the means of egress. One of the cloners could just waltz in- wait, weren’t there trainers too? Dealing with someone that trained the vod’e would most likely be way worse than dealing with one of the cloners. 

“BD is way faster than I thought. He said we need to download this onto a data stick or datapad when we get back, he doesn’t want to store it all-but I think we can download more than we thought!” Boba started talking softly and BD chirped back responses, so Cal just kept focusing on making sure no one got the drop on them. 

The Force whispered. 

“Time to go,” he blurted out as he whirled around. “Someone is coming.” 

“Osik,” Boba snapped before moving to grab BD. The droid let out a few pointed words as well, but Cal merely smirked while heaving them both up with the Force. The movement was not refined and there may have been a bumped elbow or head, judging from how Boba swore, but they didn’t have time to worry about that. Cal didn’t have time to worry about that. He jumped. 

The cover was barely slipped into place when someone entered the room. The boys didn’t wait around to see who, but instead crawled painfully slow as to not make a noise. Their movements started to lag the closer they got to the apartment. The thundering of his heart had mellowed out and now all he wanted was to fall asleep for a few more hours. Maybe the General and Jango would still be passed out? 

“I want a nap,” he muttered and was shocked when Boba made a sound of agreement. He had snuck around plenty of times back in his proper time and not felt so drained afterward, so what was different about this? Was it the body? Cal frowned as he realized he did seem to grow tired far faster now. That would be a problem. He was going to have to train himself to be able to survive on a few hours of meditation again and that wasn’t going to be an easy feat- not when he wasn’t even sure he could at this age. That was a skill he had learned crudely and rather slapdash while surviving on Bracca. Could he replicate the need here? Did he want to?

“Lower me down.” Boba crouched at the edge vent and Cal did as ordered. The strain he felt behind his eyes was growing with each passing second. BD jumped without his aid, thankfully, and Cal inched closer to the opening. The fall wasn’t far onto the bed and the idea of just falling was tempting. Except, no, that would make far too much noise. He struggled for a moment as he tried to decide if he could handle lowering himself with the Force. 

Once more surely wouldn’t harm him, right?

Cal bit the inside of his cheek before settling on just letting the Force aid him. 

His focus shattered just before he landed on the bed. His gaze jerked to the door, eyes widening in panic, and he collapsed against the sheets rather abruptly. 

“Well,” the General said in a tone that sounded exasperated. “It seems my feeling was spot on. Whoever taught you how to Force Fall seems to have failed to remind you not to overuse your powers. You are still growing, youngling.”

Boba just sat on the bed with a look of horror on his face. 

They had been caught. 

“Ow,” Cal finally croaked out. “My head-” The General was at his side in an instant, pressing cool fingers to his forehead while frowning. 

“Why must you both cause me such problems,” the General asked softly. A sort of warmth started to develop at the spot where fingertips pressed into his skin and then it started to expand outward. A sigh escaped Cal before he could stop himself. Pain lanced behind his eyes, battling with the warmth, and he found himself curling into Obi-Wan’s side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? Not that bad, right?
> 
> ...Obi-Wan is sighing.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What's this," buir asked while crossing his arms over his chest while leaning against the doorframe.
> 
> “What is what exactly,” Kenobi asked in a slightly amused tone. Boba could see his buir’s jaw clenching and he had to hide a smile. He had forgotten just how annoying the jetii could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some feels and some ridiculous headcanon about sporks. I would link you to my tumblr posts about tactical utensils, but tumblr is being dumb.
> 
> Enjoy Boba POV!

The bedroom was awash with a soft blue light thanks to BD. The small droid was perched on the foot of the bed, near Cal, and showing off one of their finds. The droid, it seemed, didn't want to be far from his jetii. 

Boba was showing Kenobi the facility as best he could. So far the jetii hadn't asked how they got the map, but he had a feeling the man already knew the answer. Kenobi wasn't stupid and had probably connected the dots thanks to catching them tumbling out of the vent. The jetii, for his part, was listening with a serious look on his face while his fingers carded through Cal's hair.

"And that," Boba said while pointing at part of the projected holomap, "is where they take some of the vod'e-" His words trailed off as he started to actually think about what he was going to say. When he was younger it had been easy to say the word because he hadn't truly known what it meant. Now? He was suddenly tasting something sour. His gaze shifted towards Cal. His companion had his head resting on Kenobi's thigh while his gaze seemed unfocused on the map. He thought his partner would pass out soon. That sounded amazing. A quick nap-

His mind snapped back to a single word.

Decommissioned. 

In ships and weapons the word meant to put out of service, even get rid of or destroy, and now he wondered what exactly happened to the vod'e that were sent to be decommissioned. 

In the eyes of the cloners, and soon the Republic, they were just product. When product failed it was easier to toss it aside then spend precious hours fixing it-

Kark.

A coldness gripped at his heart like boney fingers. Sharp and uncomfortable. 

"Everything alright, Boba?" Kenobi's voice seemed to encircle him like a comforting blanket, chasing the cold away. Boba made a face before burrowing further into the jetii's side. That, oddly, was how buir found them. Boba tucked up against Kenobi's side and Cal curled up against the jetii's other side.

"What's this," buir asked while crossing his arms over his chest while leaning against the doorframe. 

“What is what exactly,” Kenobi asked in a slightly amused tone. Boba could see his buir’s jaw clenching and he had to hide a smile. He had forgotten just how annoying the jetii could be. 

“I asked you to get the boys while I made breakfast,” Jango finally said with an unimpressed look. Boba blinked and glanced up at Kenobi so he could study his face. Nothing was being given away. Darn. He reached across the lap to flick Cal on the top of the head. The boy seemed to get the message because he made a sloppy hand motion. BD trilled acknowledgment before the holomap vanished. A faint sound left Jango before he motioned to all of them with a hand. “Out. Now.”

Boba groaned while Cal sat up slowly. The action was jerky and Kenobi instantly had an arm wrapped around him for support. 

“Easy, youngling. You are going to feel the effects of your stupidity for a bit I fear.” The look of betrayal on Cal's face had Boba laughing, but that laugh turned into a yelp of surprise when Jango yanked him off the bed. The grip on his upper arm was steady and not painful, so why did he feel like he was mourning?

Boba wanted to cry and he wanted to scream. His mind wasn't focusing how he wanted.

He wanted to cling to his buir and never let go.

"You, set the table," his buir ordered. Boba knew the words were for him, that he was to set the table, but when he eyed his buir he saw an interesting sight. Jango was studying Kenobi and Cal and there was a faint tinge to his cheeks. Was that a flicker of interest in those eyes? Boba's lips curled into a smug smile. It seemed his di'kut of a buir was finally starting to catch feelings. 

"Lek," he said while attempting to hide his amusement. A faint squirm and then he was free of his buir's grip. Boba raced off to the kitchenette to grab what they would need. Bowls were set down at what he deemed the designated seating placement for each of them, along with a spork. It was a good thing they had spares because, otherwise, he would have placed a fork and a spoon down for the jettise. He paused in setting a spork down for Cal's breakfast. Did the other know there was a hidden knife inside the handle? This breakfast could go badly if Cal decided to stab him with the tactical silverware. He decided it was in his best interest not to bring up the pudding cups while Cal had a weapon.

Yeah, he could go the entirety of breakfast without antagonizing Cal.

He finally slammed the spork down and spun around to call everyone else to breakfast. Buir went straight to the kitchenette to grab the pot of porridge while Kenobi ushered Cal towards the seat he had taken last night. Boba, naturally, slid into the seat next to him. 

"Breakfast and then we talk about what you two were up to," Jango said while ladling porridge into each bowl. Boba pulled a face when he realized there wasn't a pot of spiced honey on the table. Oh, right, they didn't stock a lot of that normally. They'd have to work on stocking stuff like that up if they were going to stick around Kamino with Kenobi and Cal. He earned himself a light tap on the top of his head from his buir, a minor reprimand for making a face. He rubbed the spot out of habit as he watched Kenobi inspect the spork given to him.

"Planning on a fight over breakfast," the jetii inquired.

"Doubt you could take me," Jango retorted. Cal seemed to wake up more and watched the scene unfold at the table with mild confusion. Boba was thrilled. 

"Oh, don't be so sure. I am quite adept at being creative with my hands… blade or not," Kenobi drawled out smugly. Boba's eyes widened as his buir's cheeks darkened again. 

Wait, no. He didn't want to hear them flirting!

This was the worst.

"Blade," Cal questioned like the oblivious little shit he was.

"In the eating utensil," Kenobi replied before buir could. Boba could practically see the air leave the man's lungs. Jango Fett had been caught off guard. "Twist the handle like so-" He demonstrated and popped the handle free to reveal the weapon inside. "-and you have the means to give someone a very bad day."

Boba's jaw dropped. He hadn't expected Kenobi to know that! Maybe it wouldn't be that hard to get Kenobi interested in buir if he knew things about Mandalorian silverware? It was a weird leap of logic, but he was sticking to it anyway. Any sign of knowing and appreciating their culture meant Kenobi would be open to knowing buir better.

BD jumped on the table and promptly began to scan the spork. Kenobi calmly put it back together while the droid trilled happily. It seemed it was a fan of stabbing utensils and thought Cal needed some.

"What the kark," he blurted out for good measure.

"Language," Jango snapped before sitting down in his own chair. "That's it. Conversation over. We eat in silence."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kenobi can't not flirt.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was Boba on about? 
> 
> Before he could chase after that thought Obi-Wan felt a spike of cold pierce him a second before the bowl in front of Cal shattered. Shards flew every which way while the small droid let out a high pitched yell. His gaze jerked to the piece of bowl that was now in his sporkful of porridge.
> 
> "What," the bounty hunter croaked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10!!! Fair warning, there are serious talks in this chapter and way less fluff. I would like to point out I warned you all, in the beginning, this wouldn't be all cute and now I am proving that. Some truths are pulled kicking and screaming to the surface.
> 
> Also, there is a bonus at the end of this chapter. A SUPER ANGSTY blurb about one of the Iron Battalion. The Iron Battalion was free real estate and with Jangobi server...it got filled. With the help of DragonSkortch, we have created CC-2552 Striker--Iron Battalion Commander, along with way more.
> 
> Ahem, anyway- Obi-Wan POV!

Breakfast was delicious if one discounted the feeling of unease that coated everything. 

Obi-Wan couldn't help the way he kept glancing at the younglings and he knew Jango was watching him as he did so. The gaze wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t exactly warming either. The bounty hunter was an attractive specimen, he had to admit that at least, but there were dangerous secrets there. He was willing to work with him for the time so they could see just what all the younglings knew and that didn’t mean anything more had to happen. 

He flicked a gaze towards Jango and smirked when the man looked down at his own bowl suddenly. Well, it seemed more likely nothing would happen if Jango kept avoiding him like that. Obi-Wan forced his attention back to the boys and to breakfast. The whole affair was, well, awkward. He was honestly impressed that they had made it this far in silence. Cal looked half asleep thanks to the Force fatigue, but Boba was radiating discomfort and sorrow. He was betting that the boy would finally blurt out what was on his mind, orders or not. His spork was partway to his mouth, with nearly all his breakfast gone from his bowl when it finally happened. Boba couldn't seem to stand the silence anymore. An impressive feat to last as long as he had- if he had actually been a child or Anakin.

"What's the decommissioning room actually for," the Mandalorian youngling asked while fixing Jango with a look. Jango promptly sprayed his mouthful of drink across part of the table in surprise. 

Decommissioning? 

What was Boba on about? 

Before he could chase after that thought Obi-Wan felt a spike of cold pierce him a second before the bowl in front of Cal shattered. Shards flew every which way while the small droid let out a high pitched yell. His gaze jerked to the piece of bowl that was now in his sporkful of porridge.

Sithspit. He had been enjoying that!

"What," the bounty hunter croaked. Well, that certainly was not good. The normal perfect sabacc face Jango wore was set aside for the moment and a look of pure surprise was there instead. This was clearly a conversation he had never thought he’d be partaking in. Though, Obi-Wan thought, maybe it was the crude display of the Force that left him so shocked?

"Decommissioning," Boba repeated while yanking Cal into a headlock. The Initiate didn't fight, merely pulled a face of displeasure. 

Obi-Wan pulled the shrapnel out of his food and silently wondered about what exactly was being talked about. Cal seemed to be centered now, but the mere question had resulted in such a violent outburst. 

"I heard what you said, but what are you on about?" Jango set his glass down hard. "Sometimes things around here break, you know this, osik gets sent-"

"Vod'e," Cal said softly. A feeling of unease raced down his spine. Jango seemed to freeze as his facial expression darkened suddenly. This was somehow a dangerous line of questioning, but he had the feeling he needed to let it play out. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and waited on Jango to keep talking. Silence stretched and finally he had to direct the conversation to keep going. Something was urging him to find out, to pry back the layers of secrets to expose the truth, no matter how grotesque. 

"What do vod'e have to do with the question?" Both of the younglings shifted their gazes to him. He saw grief in both sets of eyes. Oh, dear, that wasn't good.

"The vod'e get decommissioned." Cal’s voice was a near whisper now and Obi-Wan could see the way Boba was nodding ever so faintly. His gaze jerked back to Jango and he blanched. The bounty hunter looked like someone had just sucker-punched him straight in the soul. 

“And who are the vod’e,” he asked carefully, even though he had a feeling he knew the answer. 

“The clones,” Boba supplied.

The vod’e were the clones. _Of course._

Jango was paling slightly and Obi-Wan didn’t feel an ounce of sympathy. He set his spork down carefully on the table, as if he was trying to rid himself of a weapon, and marched on in his line of questioning.

“What happens to the clones when they get decommissioned?” He found he was already fearing whatever words were thrown out into the galaxy. The very air in the room seemed to be going frigid and he didn’t blame the younglings one bit. They seemed upset about the whole thing and he wondered just what they had heard about this particular procedure in their future. 

Was it commonplace? 

What had happened in their future?

Jango didn’t answer.

“I heard whispers.” Cal leaned against Boba and stared at nothing exactly. “When they thought I was sleeping. They told stories to each other- they said sometimes those that weren’t fast enough, smart enough, that weren't perfect… they never came back.”

Well, he could read between those lines. He placed his hands down on either side of his bowl, palms against the table, and fixed Jango with a disapproving look. “You send your children to die?” 

That got Jango’s attention and everyone seemed to jump when the man slammed a fist against the table. The noise echoed in the room, hollow and angry. “They are not my children!” Turmoil coiled in the air. Conflicting emotions leaned against his back and he watched Cal turn a faint shade of green. He wasn’t sure he believed the cry, not when he knew Mandalorians coveted foundlings. Was the man purposely disconnecting himself so he didn’t feel each death like a wound against his soul? That would end with a large gouge across the heart. 

“My vod’e,” Boba spit out. “Mine! They are aliit!” 

Obi-Wan could see the fissures growing in Jango. The man was definitely trying to distance himself. He opened his mouth to ask something, anything, and then he was snapping it shut. Teeth clinked together painfully. Boba was sliding out of his chair, yanking Cal with him, and then everything seemed to move like a shuttering holorecording. 

Jango was reaching for the boys. 

BD jumped on the floor.

Cal flung an arm out. 

Boba spun Cal around, pulling him into an embrace.

The remaining bowls went sailing across the room and slammed hard into the wall. 

It was a near Anakin level tantrum. 

Breakfast, it seemed, was officially over.

_**MORE ANGST BELOW**_  
 **☆☆☆BONUS☆☆☆**

The mess hall used to be full of laughter and good-natured banter.

The halls used to have muttered jokes and fond high fives.

The bunks used to be ignored while they all sought warmth and comfort.

The cadet, the little Commander, always snuck into the bunks when another nightmare hit.

No more. 

Execute Order 66.

Raise the blaster. 

Destroy the traitors. 

Obey orders.

His fingers spasmed against the cold black as he sighted his target. The cadet- No, a traitor. They’d grow up to raise their blade against the Empire. How viciously his soldiers were ripped apart with that crackling blade from the bigger one. A true monster that needed to be put down. A memory tried to surface, tried to scream against the scene unfolding in front of his eyes. 

“Don’t let the traitor leave this room. I have the little one,” he said over the comms. 

A single shot was all it would take. Stop the small one from growing up to go against the Emperor, this was a mercy. End it now and he wouldn’t be hunted. 

He had a name.

No, he had a number. 

He followed orders. 

The wall next to him howled while it was wrenched apart with a brutal display of the Force. This, this was why they needed to put them down. They abused their powers, betrayed everyone, his thoughts told him so. His finger didn’t move against the trigger as a chunk of starship slammed into his head. CC-2552 went down. 

°

The wailing cry of the ship’s siren pulled Striker back into consciousness. Lights pulsed erratically while boots stomped the ground with a hollow echoing sound. It all set his teeth on edge. A strange stinging started in his eyes and mixed with the burning sensation. He was choking on the tainted air. 

He had to find his General. 

He needed to protect the cadet-

He rolled onto his side and bit back a yell. Pain lanced through his side. No time, he needed to move. He needed to stay alive. He used his blaster as a crutch to help him stand up and hoped none of the vod’e saw him do so. They didn’t treat their weapons like this. They never treated their weapons like this. 

“That way- they are heading to the escape pods-”

“We will catch them there-”

Bile, he tasted bile. The sheer act of walking hurt, but it was the odious feeling that was taking root inside his head that nearly had him falling. He had raised his blaster towards the jet’ika. He had almost taken the shot and at the time he had wanted to place a bolt between those wide eyes. Why had he done that? Why had it felt like he had been snuffed out inside his own mind?

“We’ve got them-”

“Eliminate-”

No!

Striker stumbled into a control panel. His stained gloves fumbled with the buttons as he tried to do something. Anything. 

“The Jedi is down-”

“Don’t let the small one get away-”

“The escape pod-”

He punched in his override code and tried to brace himself as small explosions began to rock the outside of _Albedo Brave_ as the deck guns began to overheat before erupting into mere shrapnel. 

Now, if he could just make it to one of the remaining escape pods he could go after the small Commander. He had to protect him, he had to save him- 

“There is a traitor on board-”

“Fan out and execute-”

Striker closed his eyes for a moment. Already the atmosphere was changing and the sirens were changing. A shaky laugh escaped him as the automated message began. That crazy General, he was being one last pain in the shebs even from the afterlife. 

“Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la.” _Not gone, merely marching far away._ Striker hoisted his blaster up one more time and knew in his bones that he wasn’t going to make it to the escape pods, but he was going to try. He wasn't going to give up.

He had to do everything he could to stay alive and find the kid.

There was hope and **he wasn’t going to give up.**

“Good soldiers,” he muttered as he swapped his blaster to stun. “Break stupid orders. Stay alive, Cal. I’m coming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...oof.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Slow down,” Boba snapped. “My legs aren’t that kriffing long!”
> 
> “Language,” Jango barked. Cal couldn’t bring himself to laugh, he was just tired. He simply shifted enough to press his cheek against the back of the General’s shoulder. There had been the chance to rest, to wait, but he hadn't wanted to do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: blood in this chapter! 
> 
> Cal's POV.

It was clear that the adults were angry. Cal could feel the turmoil rolling off Obi-Wan, but that was probably because the other was carrying him on their back. He tried not to tighten his arms too much while the General stormed down the hallway. Lights passed by overhead and he felt a faint wave of dizziness. BD was oddly silent in the knapsack, a small blessing, and a worry. 

“Slow down,” Boba snapped. “My legs aren’t that kriffing long!”

“Language,” Jango barked. Cal couldn’t bring himself to laugh, he was just too tired. He simply shifted enough to press his cheek against the back of the General’s shoulder. There had been the chance to rest, to wait, but he hadn't wanted to do that. He and Boba actually hadn’t needed to put too much effort into getting their way because the General was on board. They were going to see the decommissioning room. The room that should never have existed, but did. 

“Meditate, youngling, I’ve got you,” Obi-Wan said soft enough just for him to hear and he gave a faint nod. Yeah, he could do that. He had meditated in worse places so this should be easy enough. His eyes shut as he evened out his breathing, allowing himself to fall into the ocean of the Force. He sank into the sensation while the world around him seemed to fade away. 

Bursts of colors erupted in his mind. Warmth, comfort.

There was a vague sense of familiarity with his surroundings. Just a flicker of a signature he knew, no, correction, several signatures. 

He could get lost chasing after those signatures.

A faint tug at his mind and he was surfacing slowly from the meditation. He blinked, blearily, and realized that one of the Kamino scientists was unlocking a door while Jango looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. Boba was standing at his father’s feet, arms crossed over his chest, and giving a truly impressive glare up at the scientist. How long had he been meditating? He hadn’t even noticed the new arrival. The General shifted his grip, but no move to lower him to the ground. That was fine with him. He peered into the room and found he wished he hadn’t. A sick coldness coursed through his veins while he resisted the urge to lose his breakfast right then and there.

Gurneys. 

He could feel the fear from here. 

Images danced just out of his reach. Horrible images.

“What,” he whispered. The arms under his legs squeezed, almost reassuring, and then the General was talking. 

“Tell me, when a clone fails, what exactly happens,” the voice was friendly enough, but he could feel that durasteel. The General was angry. Cal didn't blame him, he was angry too. 

“Depending on the flaw we decommission them right away, but some of them we do study. Try to learn what went wrong and use our findings to perfect the next batch,” came the reply. The words were delivered so matter of fact, so calm, and it set Cal on edge. They experimented on them? Had they no empathy? The stories from the vod'e were taking on a darker edge now. The jokes, ones he hadn't quite understood before, were now coated in a morbid shade of paint in his mind.

“Now hold on a second,” Jango interrupted. Annoyance and actual sorrow seemed to coil around the Mandalorian. Regret, faint regret. “That wasn’t in the contract-”

“You did not seem to want to be made aware of all the ongoings. We didn’t deem it important enough to force the issue. Since you seemed amicable to the decommissioning we did not think you would care if we worked at perfecting the clones. It also does not exactly pertain to you, no?” Cal could see the anger and feel the unease coming from Jango, growing with each monotone word that was delivered. “You, yourself, have stated they are nothing, but tools.” 

The General sucked in a breath of air rather audibly. 

Cal shifted, began to reach out towards Jango without thinking, and then a hand was closing around his wrist. He froze. “Initiate, that would be a very bad idea right now.” The General’s tone was full of reprimand. Oops. He almost willingly lost himself into an Echo.

“Buir,” Boba said while glancing up at Jango. “We can’t think like that anymore. The vod’e are aliit.” Pain cracked across the space. Emotional pain. Cal flinched hard. He wanted to pull back, hide, but there was no way to run while the General carried him. BD let out a sound of distress and then babbled something about not liking this place. He agreed, he didn’t like this place at all. A faint thrumming suddenly began in the back of his mind. That presence was growing, calling out to him. 

“It feels like my flesh-” The General shushed him softly and he let the words die on his lips. Such pain, such agony. Fear. His eyes began to sting. 

“Let the jet’ika speak,” Jango ordered and Cal tensed. Did he want to know? He glanced down at Boba and met an intense gaze. Could he say what he felt happening to Boba’s brothers? 

“Jango, I don’t think that is wise,” Obi-Wan said in an attempt to stop the situation from escalating. Which may have actually worked if Boba hadn’t lunged at the scientist with a sudden spork in his hand. Cal’s eyes widen before he threw a hand out to freeze Jango in place for a second. No, he couldn’t let anyone interfere. “Initiate!” He struggled hard, twisted until the General finally crouched down. His focus was only getting his feet on the ground. BD shrieked as the scientist tried to flee. 

He tumbled forward, his foot slipping on the smooth ground, and he crashed down on a knee. Pain radiated up his leg, but he didn't have time to push it aside. The palms of his hands slammed into the floor just inside the room. It was like getting hit by that rabid jotaz all over again. Terrifying. The scream started deep inside of him and erupted past his lips like a tsunami. He pushed outward with his emotions, the emotions of the ghosts of the room, and threw everything into the scream.

Echo after echo brushed up against him, battling to be heard. 

The room was dripping with darkness. 

“Again,” Boba’s voice lashed across his mind. “Again, Cal!” 

He yelled once more until his throat felt hoarse and around him the room imploded. Surfaces shattered, objects twisted and groaned, and he could feel debris fall like a toxic rain. The ache behind his eyes grew until it was near blinding. The Force almost felt apologetic and he didn’t know why until he felt the first splash of warmth against the back of his hand. He raised shaking fingers to his face. Hot, wet. He ran his fingers under his nose and pulled them back enough to stare in surprise at the crimson there. Despite the surprise nosebleed, well, he felt calm- rather like he had done what he was supposed to do. 

“Oh, Cal.” The General sounded heartbroken as he knelt down and used the sleeve of his borrowed shirt to attempt to staunch the bloody nose. “That was extremely dangerous.”

“The Force made me,” he mumbled around the sleeve. His voice sounded muffled and nasally to his own ears. 

“That was amazing,” Boba cried as he ran into the room. “Now they can’t murder our brothers! This went exactly to plan.” His companion kicked some broken syringes across the room while laughing. Cal tried to smile, but a wave of dizziness had him leaning into the General. 

“Bob’ika,” Jango barked. “You knew this would happen?” He didn’t know where the scientist had gone and he didn’t honestly care at this point. No, he was more concerned with the fact his nose kept bleeding and that Jango seemed furious. Boba blanched slightly before clasping his hands behind his back, standing like a little soldier. 

“I figured he’d lose himself in the Force osik and with the right-” The words were interrupted by the General swearing. Everyone looked at Obi-Wan in surprise. 

“That was extremely reckless, Boba! Cal was already suffering from Force exhaustion and now he is going to need to rest for a couple of days. We are lucky he didn’t tap into something darker when he destroyed this room.” Cal winced and quickly shook his head. No, he would never fall to the darkness! He had nightmares of that cold that tried to choke him. “Shh, it’s fine, Initiate. We will get some fluids in you and let you rest.”

A loud clattering sound filled the room and Jango let out a rather annoyed sounding sigh. “What is that damn droid doing now?” BD paused in knocking datapads on the floor and informed the room he was gathering up the files on the experiments. Boba grinned and raced over to help pile them up so they could be carried back to the room. Jango ran a hand over his face before letting out the longest line of swear words Cal had ever heard. Whoa, he was going to have to remember all of those!

“We can deal with those cloners when they come crying at my door, until then- everyone back to the apartment. We are going to have a long chat about this stunt,” the bounty hunter told them all. “The jet’ika can rest on the couch while we talk.”

“Jango, I think we need to discuss much more than this episode. I want to talk to you about the clones, your children.” Obi-Wan’s voice left no room for argument. Cal watched Jango and noted the way those shoulders seemed to slump ever so slightly in defeat. Was the man realizing that he had been a real idiot about the vod’e? If he acknowledged them then they were one step closer to stopping the war. Maybe. 

He just wanted a nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get wreckt cloners.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jango." His name was said like an order and he glanced up at the angry jetii. "What are they actually for? The Order would never have approved this-"
> 
> "But it is fine to slaughter innocents," he snapped. The words were like thunder and Kenobi looked honestly confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This past week...what a dumpster fire to the extreme. I took a bit to finally be able to write again and I am still not sure how great that worked out, but here we are? 
> 
> Warnings of angst, anger, serious conversations, and threats of death at the end.

He wasn't a coward, far from it, but even he had to admit he wanted to avoid the impending conversation. Jango rather thought it wasn't Kenobi's business, except it was. The whole thing was a mess and had blown up spectacularly in his face. Boba just had to suddenly take an interest in the clones. The loud declaration of them being aliit had been like a vibroblade to the heart and then because he could the brat had twisted that blade violently and without remorse by calling them his and the jet'ika's vod'e. He was beyond proud and frustrated at the same time. Boba truly was his son. So, now, Jango was putting off the conversation as long as he could while he did best to encase the jet'ika in yet another blanket on the couch. Kenobi was exuding annoyance and impatience, but somehow still looked calm. It was frustrating. Jango tucked a corner in and pressed the back of his hand to Cal's forehead. He was starting to feel less icy, so that was good. 

"Stars," Kenobi finally snapped without really raising his voice. "Going to yank ten more blankets out of thin air or can we finally talk?" Boba, the little traitor, snickered hard before throwing himself on the couch next to Cal. He had the feeling that both of the boys were going to end up under those blankets together sooner rather than later. 

"Not in front of the kids," was all he said in reply. A faint hum of mild agreement left Kenobi. At least they agreed on something, he thought. What was to come was going to be painful, of this he was sure. Jango motioned to his bedroom. That space was secured. 

It was with an annoyingly anxious heart that he left the boys behind and went to face his reckoning. 

The door sliding shut behind them once they were in his room felt awful, like a blade falling to end a life. His mind was all over the place and had been since the jet'ika had shown up at his door. He ran a hand over his lower face as he waited for the screaming to start. The problem, he discovered, was it didn't start. Kenobi merely stood there, arms crossed over his chest, and gave him a look of impatience. Wait, was the jetii expecting him to start talking? This was somehow so much worse. Where would he even start? He had agreed to this haran to get revenge on the soulless and emotionless jettise. The first scream and thrown fist from the tiny one had placed a fine crack in the wall he had built inside of him. Each confusing interaction had put more fissures. 

"What," he finally blurted out a tad defensively. The look he got in return made him feel like a child again. He crossed his arms across his chest and did his best to not show a single one of his emotions. 

What right did a jetii have to condemn him when they were the reason he had lost everything? 

"They are your children," Kenobi said in a voice that could have been used for giving a lecture. "And you let them be experiments. I thought you were supposed to care for your family, cherish the young."

He tasted anger for a moment. How dare he lecture him on family and ideals! Where were those sentiments when the jettise hadn't paused before cutting down his vod'e? Where were they when he was being thrust into a galaxy of misery? 

"You know nothing," he began to bite out.

"I know those boys out there," Kenobi said while motioning with a hand. "All of them, they all feel unique. They aren't droids! They are living, breathing children of Mandalore and you, Jango Fett, allowed them to die for what? Because they didn't perform whatever asinine training routine perfectly? How could you?" Jango stumbled back a step while each word felt like a blade to his limbs. The way the words were delivered so matter of fact made this all so much more painful. He could almost hear a sentiment unspoken. _Your buir would be ashamed of you._

"They're clones-"

"That bleed! That feel! They are of your blood and I know full well that Mandalorian blood is vibrant. Your people, Jango, would never accept this. You are supposed to take in those who have no home, welcome young, not let scientists pull them apart to figure out how to make them more droid like! They are your sons, you di'kut!" 

It was the Mandalorian insult that had him sitting down hard on the edge of his bed. Why did these jettise know Mandoa? Why did Kenobi seem to know so much about his people? 

The very floor beneath his feet was heaving violently.

"I can't-" The protest stopped before it fully left him. Jango had trained some of those clones personally and had witnessed the yearning in their eyes. They had looked at him like they wanted more; like they wanted a buir. They didn't have anyone to calm their nightmares or whisper comforting words when they hurt. He had created them out of anger, out of hatred, as a means for revenge and then he had turned his back on them. He wanted the Order to be brought to its knees, to show them for the hypocrites they were. He wanted to destroy them and he had allowed himself to be the template of their fall from grace. 

Why was he suddenly feeling the first pangs of something else?

"Jango." His name was said like an order and he glanced up at the mildly angry jetii. "What are they actually for? The Order would never have approved this-"

"But it is fine to slaughter innocents," he snapped. The words were like thunder and Kenobi looked honestly confused. Jango rose from the bed and pointed a finger at the man. "Your Order slaughtered us when we were doing our job on Galdiraan. Do you so easily decide what fits into your world and what doesn't? Those people had families and your Order cut them down. Don't lecture me about what your corrupted religion would approve of, I know the blood on your hands."

Kenobi stood there, a look of grief on his face, and then he spread his hands wide as if apologizing. "Jango, I don't know what you are talking about." Those words were a punch to the gut. How did this person standing in front of him not know about one of the single worst moments of his life? "I cannot speak on what we did or what we did not, but I ask you this. Is answering one injury with another the way you really want to go? You are angry at me, at the Jedi, so why are you making your children pay the price? What are you getting out of this besides a longer list of Remembrances?"

That wasn't-

Jango opened his mouth to argue, to explain, and the words wouldn't answer his call. 

A sigh escaped the other. "Let me reach out to the Council, see what they know of Galdiraan. Give me the chance to learn the truth, but in exchange stop the decommissioning. Give those boys time to be children." He wanted to balk, to snarl at the fact Kenobi thought he could ask such a thing, but he didn't know what to even say. He needed time to think, needed time to reevaluate everything. He blamed the Order for the downfall of Mandalore, and yet, he was having trouble pinning that blame on the jettise in his apartment. 

Jango needed time to just sort his thoughts out.

“You want me to stop the training and lessons as well,” he said and winced. That was supposed to be a question, but he already knew the answer. Kenobi just gave him a look. “I don’t have to listen to you,” he found himself saying defensively.

“No, you don’t. I am asking, Jango, for your children.”

It was all too much. He balled his hands into fists and debated just punching Kenobi right in his face. That would make him feel slightly better, but it also wouldn’t. The man in front of him wasn’t the one who had sliced warriors in half with a blade. 

“How can you remain so karking calm while talking about this?” That was it, that was what was bothering him, the thing he could latch onto inside the raging storm in his mind. Kenobi had barely raised his voice, despite the minor indications of feeling things. The jetii stared at him for a moment and then let out a string of swearwords that left him impressed and a tad flustered. 

Where the kriff had the man learned so many of those inappropriate words? He was swearing like a karking mercenary! 

“That is what you are focusing on right now? Force, Jango! We do our best not to give into ours because we can become overwhelmed. If I gave into my anger right now? I would destroy this entire facility! I cannot do that, I have to find my balance. To lose myself...it has devastating consequences. You saw the youngling and what he did to a single room. I am far from calm, but I do not have the luxury of falling to my knees and crying out against the atrocities here. We aren’t unfeeling, no, we feel far too much, and you would be wise to remember that. A Jedi that gives fully into their emotions is dangerous.” Kenobi gave him a pitying look. Kriff, Jango was beyond confused at this point. The image of Cal screaming while a room erupted flashed across his mind. “We are peacekeepers, or we should be, but like warriors, we must keep our wits about us. Tell me, have you gone into this with a clear mind? Have you kept your wits about you, Mand'alor?” 

Jango didn’t even get to answer before the man was sweeping out of the room. 

A clear mind…

He sank down onto the floor and leaned his back against the side of his bed. He wanted to hate Kenobi, wanted to ignore those words, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do so. They had broken bread, shared drinks. Kenobi had been painfully upfront about a lot of things. There was no deception he could sense so far. He brought his knees up slowly and rested his forehead against them. 

It felt like he was shattering inside. 

Wait, Kenobi had called him Mand'alor-

°

Pain radiated from his jaw, but he didn't back down. He brought his arms in a defensive move and felt the impact of another solid hit. His bare feet slid across the sweat-slick mat and he refused to fall. He couldn't take a knee here, he had to keep going. He had to prove himself.

He had to be the best.

His arm lashed out and he wrapped his hand around an unsuspecting wrist. He threw his weight backward, recalling the few holos recorded of his Cadet. Quick images with scrolling text crying how violent the wanted criminal was. The anxious boy had grown into a brutal fighter. So again, yes, again he would find his way to that side. He had to survive Kamino once more, had to make sure he was stronger and faster. Better. He needed to grow up to protect his vod'e and one small jet'ika that had lit up like a sun when praised. 

Bodies collided. His back hit the ground. He let gravity and the other's momentum do all the work. The older shiny went flying and silence rang as he rolled back up into a crouched position. 

"Stop," a voice cracked out. 

Kriff. He hadn't known a trainer had walked in. 

"Everyone line up. I want an explanation for that travesty! You were not trained to fight like that! We want soldiers that follow orders." The words slashed at his mind while they all obeyed instantly and he winced. "You, clone, designation now."

He felt sick to his stomach. "CC-2552, sir," the words felt swollen in his mouth. Wrong. 

Striker. He hadn't earned that name yet. Not yet. 

He would. 

_"Commander," the lilting voice filled the space with joy. "Look! I got another bead on my braid! You were right-"_

A loud crack, a hand connected with his face. His head whipped to the side and then the pain erupted across his cheek. His eyes focused on nothing as he stood there. 

He could handle this. He had handled it before.

"Pull a stunt like that again and I'll personally see you get decommissioned." A coldness started to take hold of him. 

No.

This wasn't in the plan. 

He had to survive. He had to find that boy who had held galaxies in his eyes. 

_"Commander," Cal said while tugging on his hand with his own gloved one. "What are you going to do when the war is over? I'd like it if we could stay vod- I mean if that is allowed._

“It won’t happen again, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for loving this story. Thank you for reading. Thank you for commenting. Just, seriously, thank you.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was no point in dwelling on the failure of the future now that he had a second chance.
> 
> Striker sighed and rubbed his eyes with shaking fingers. Time to get up and fall into the ever painful routine that was Kamino.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey. This chapter is Striker's POV and introduces another member of the Iron Battalion. 
> 
> CT-8809 Dice, created by Kay-2SO, used with permission. We discussed some headcanons and then...I went wild lol

There was something dripping. It collided with the floor over and over again. A faint noise that echoed each time. Striker stared up at the ceiling as the noise curled around him, whispered horrible things, but he didn't move, no, to move meant to acknowledge he heard the noise. If he acknowledged the repetitious sound then he had to admit this was all something more than a complicated dream. 

Plop.

Plop.

Plop.

The faint splash like sound that followed each maddening impact pulled at his senses. It was clawing at his mind. 

And then he jerked awake. 

Dread slammed into his chest.

That karking dream again. He breathed slowly out through his nose and counted stars in his head. The action was a mental tally of how many days since he had woken up in a much younger body. How long would it be until he found his Cadet? How long until he could yell the truth? The Jedi needed to know, but he didn't know how to reach them quite yet. The issue to finding the answers to those questions was tangled up in the fact he didn't even know exactly _when_ he was.

Kriff. He had been so close. He had been ready to take a shot at that sleemo Darth Vader and then that wave of something had erupted outward. Tangible power maybe? He hadn't been able to run in time before it slammed into him. He had failed his Cadet again. There was no point in dwelling on the failure of the future now that he had a second chance or at least that was what he told himself. Shame his mind kept picking at that worry, at that failure.

Striker sighed and rubbed his eyes with shaking fingers. Right. Time to get up and fall into the ever painful routine that was Kamino. He still needed to find the exact stardate so he could figure out how long he had until his growth spurt would hit. That was something he was not looking forward to experiencing again, but he had no choice. He had to last until he got assigned to Master Tapal's command. When would the Jedi arrive? His every move was watched and he couldn’t just ask a trainer for information. He was left having to plan during the moments when he wasn’t reminding himself over and over to just follow what everyone else was doing. 

Meals and lights out, those were the perfect times to line a plan up in his head. He missed having the resources of GAR at his fingertips, but he had worked with worse. Striker had survived years after the Purge without proper resources. This was no different. Just as deadly, just as dangerous. So over the week, give or take, since he woke up in his pint-sized body he plotted how to get his hands on a datapad with access to the holonet.

He needed more information.

Was the little Commander alright in this time? The Temple, as he recalled from stories, cared about the younglings. Cal had to be happy and comfy right now, right? He hadn’t heard tales of the war starting yet. They were all just waiting, waiting on a Jedi to show up. 

Once a Jedi showed up, well, everything would change. 

A tray slammed against the table and he managed not to jump. Oh, wow, was that what it tasted like when one choked on their own heart?

Kark, he had been lost in his thoughts. 

He needed to be more aware, even when surrounded by his vod’e.

"I heard a rumor," a young Dice said while sliding into the seat across from him. Striker blinked and glanced up from ripping open the packet of goo that he was supposed to eat. Right, not Dice yet, CC-8809 hadn't gotten that nickname yet.

"Oh," he asked as disinterestedly as possible. 

"Yeah, supposedly that room got destroyed." Dice set about organizing his tray in some convoluted way. "I bet we are going to get in trouble." Striker tried not to smile, but it was hard. That simple turn of phrase brought back so many memories. The Cadet across from him was going to grow up into a fine sniper with the worst natural luck ever when it came to games.

Playing sabacc with Dice was always entertaining.

"What would you even wager? We don't own anything." The words were bordering on cruel, but he was trying to make sure his vod didn't draw too much attention. Dice simply waved a hand in the air dismissively.

"Listen, that's beside the point. I heard another rumor and this is a good one! Like really good." Striker raised an eyebrow. What could be better than the decommissioning room supposedly being destroyed? Dice leaned forward and lowered his voice, nearly putting an elbow right in a pile of dry supposed biscuits. "Some of the Alphas said there is a Jedi here!"

Striker’s eyes widened. Jedi? On Kamino? What were the odds?

“Did they say who the Jedi was,” he croaked out. Dice didn’t seem to notice the change of tone and merely shrugged while going back to ripping up the dry rations so he could mix them in with the protein goo. Striker wanted to throw up in his mouth and not just because of the war crime happening on Dice’s tray. 

Was this it? 

Were they about to go to war? 

Something tugged at the edges of his mind and he glanced towards the left. The Prime was walking with the Negotiator. He blinked hard and even took a moment to rub at his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. His gaze shifted to the Prime and then right back to the Jedi at his side.

There was a Jedi on Kamino alright. 

It was the way the adults looked down that had Striker standing up suddenly, hands pressed to the table, as he tried to see out the window better. Who were they looking at? Boba? That didn’t make sense. Though, he had to admit to himself, nothing had really made sense since the moment he had woken up back on Kamino. 

“You okay,” Dice asked around a mouthful of food. Striker shot him a brief glance before he looked around the room. Could he make it to the door before someone stopped him? There were some Alphas sitting near the door he needed and they wouldn’t think twice about laying him out flat if he caused a scene. 

Kriff. 

If he was recalling the story right then this was already different. The first time around the Prime fought the Jedi, ran off, and then died during the first battle of Geonosis. 

“When did that Jedi arrive,” he pointed towards the window and promptly heard the sound of Dice inhaling the mushy food wrong. He winced as his vod coughed painfully. Other cadets were looking at them strangely and he could even see an Alpha getting up from their own table to investigate. Well, kark, this was bad. 

There was no way he was going to be able to chase after Kenobi now or see who had been just beneath the edge of the window. 

Something inside of him was telling him to be patient, but something else was telling him to run now. 

“Drink this,” he finally blurted out as he pushed his drink towards Dice. “It will help.” Striker sank back down into his seat as he watched the young clone drain the cup. He’d lost his chance for the moment, but he was fully planning on sneaking out after lights out. If General Kenobi was walking around with the Prime then he just needed to make his way to where the Prime lived. 

A messy plan, but the only plan he had at the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just move my chess pieces around the board all haphazardly and pretend I am weaving the plot together!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cal took a moment to assess if he was actually feeling better. The pain behind his eyes was duller, manageable, and he didn't feel shaky anymore. He was, however, overheating. Boba was like a badly tuned engine- running way too hot. He gave a jerky nod before speaking softly. "Yes, Master." There was a twitch from the General and the lines around those eyes became more pronounced for a ghost of a second. Had he imagined that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like a strange mixture of fluff and pain. Someone reacts to hearing a voice from their past.
> 
> Cal's very confused POV!

"Your elbow is in my throat," Cal grumbled. Boba barely stirred except to slap a hand against the side of his face. The sound echoed in his ears, but it was the sensation that really got him. Ow. Why was Boba even in the blankets with him? When he had dozed off he had very much been alone in his cocoon of blankets. He tried to squirm free and discovered it was painfully difficult to move. Blankets and limbs got in the way. Kriff, he was hot. Boba's fingers got a little too close to his mouth and Cal seriously debated biting them.

A faint laugh-like sound drifted from above them and he tipped his head back to stare up at the General. 

"Help me," he pleaded. He craved the cool air and freedom from the sudden growth that was Boba.

"I don't think I could pry him off of you if I tried, my dear youngling." Obi-Wan smiled softly, which conflicted with the emotions in his eyes, and reached down to at least remove Boba's hand from Cal's face. "I've got to make a few calls, but before that- are you feeling better?"

Cal took a moment to assess if he was actually feeling better. The pain behind his eyes was duller, manageable, and he didn't feel shaky anymore. He was, however, overheating. Boba was like a badly tuned engine- running way too hot. He gave a jerky nod before speaking softly. "Yes, Master." There was a twitch from the General and the lines around those eyes became more pronounced for a ghost of a second. Had he imagined that?

"Do you need me to make these calls elsewhere or…" 

Cal shifted a bit harder and Boba merely snuggled closer. Yeah, his time travel buddy was not waking up. He gave the General a smile to show it was fine. He was, if he was being honest, curious as to what the calls were going to be about. Obi-Wan and Jango had been in the room a bit, so were the calls linked to that? Part of him wondered if it was some sort of test, but what kind of test? Was the General trying to glean just what information he knew? If he was, then the Jedi Master had to suspect he was from the future. He and Boba hadn't exactly been keeping a tight lid on everything. Oh, there was the headache coming back. The circular thoughts were really making his head throb. That was super unfair.

Obi-Wan sank down onto the open end of the couch and pulled out his comm. Cal peered over the top of Boba's curly hair and waited to see just who the General was contacting. 

"Master," a youngish voice filled the space while the image of a padawan he didn't recognize appeared. 

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said with a soft smile. "I was wondering if you'd like to go against the Council's wishes?" 

Wait, what? 

Anakin looked so young!

Wait, no, wrong thought! Why was the General talking about going against the Council? 

"Is this some sort of lesson," Anakin asked with clear apprehension. Obi-Wan sighed ever so slightly and wore an expression of mild exasperation. Cal was with Anakin in that sentiment because this had to be a test for both of them for some reason. His headache took the chance to remind him it was there and he did his best to just empty his mind. Right, no more thinking about tests. 

"No, things have gotten complicated and I fear I require your assistance and the Senator's.” Complicated? Was that because of him and Boba? He wasn’t positive, but he didn’t think their antics required a senator to get involved. Actually, why would they need a senator at all? “I'll send you some coordinates, time is of the essence. Since you are on Naboo-"

"Ah, about that, Master… we aren't. Padmé insisted on coming to Tatooine-" He felt a spike of displeasure and panic rise from the General that was quickly drowned out by worry. Obi-Wan’s shields had either slipped or he was still dealing with the after-effects of abusing the Force. He’d have to reinforce his own shields so he didn’t pick up things like that again.

"Pardon?" Yeah, pardon? Why would anyone go to that sandy planet? Cal went once, trying to outrun some bounty hunters, and had earned himself a painful sunburn. 

"I rescued my mother, Obi-Wan. My dreams were true and you just dismissed them, Padmé listened. She's a good listener, unlike some people." Cal pulled part of the blanket up over his lower face to shield himself from the anger he felt in those words. Obi-Wan was just sitting there, unmoving, but he could sense the pain and relief. Definitely needed to meditate later. 

"Ani," Obi-Wan finally breathed out. "I am truly sorry. Please, both of you come to where I am and we can talk this out. I need both yours, the Senator's, and Artoo's skills." The sincerity hung in the air and Cal glanced at the image of Anakin, waiting to see how he reacted. A scowl fought to appear on the projected face of teenage Anakin and Cal felt confused. Where was the man who was the Hero With No Fear? All he saw was a padawan that was on the verge of telling his Master to get karked. 

"Fine. We'll come save you, _Master._ " The call disconnected suddenly and Obi-Wan let out the faintest of swears. 

He had never once thought about talking to Master Tapal like that and he couldn't help staring at Obi-Wan with giant eyes. Was that normal? His memories of how Master/Padawan teams interacted didn't seem to cover swearing and bickering. Cal was starting to wonder if he hadn’t actually known fully how people in the Order acted or if his memories were coated in a glittering gossamer, but before he could really focus on that Obi-Wan was calling someone else. 

"What now," Master Windu said in lieu of a greeting a second after his image appeared. Cal's memory of Jedi was just taking hit after hit. Serene creatures his shebs! 

"Mace, delightful as always. Listen, Galidraan came up in my investigation and I need to know what Council knows of that place," Obi-Wan said calmly. Galidraan? What was that- Cal bit back a sudden squeak of sound when Boba's arms tightened painfully around his waist. He glanced down and flinched at Boba staring right back at him. The arms around his waist trembled and Cal moved without thinking. He shifted until he could wrap his arms around Boba in an attempt to be comforting. 

Boba was hurting all of a sudden. What had set it off? 

"Galidraan? Obi-Wan, where in Sithspit did you hear that name?"

"From my new acquaintance, Jango Fett," the General said calmly. He was greeted with a long silence before Mace sighed like the weight of the galaxy was on his shoulders. Cal felt that sigh in his bones, but what he felt more was the way Boba was bleeding anguish.

"I...can send you some files along with the rest of the lesson modules you requested. It is not a proud moment, one I know should have been handled differently, but I'll let you read the reports." The Jedi Master shifted to hide his hands in his sleeves and Cal wondered faintly if he was nervous about something. He didn’t know Master Windu well, had thought the man intimidating as a youngling, but now all he saw someone who was just exhausted. 

The war hadn’t even started yet and at least one member of the Council was exhausted. He whispered soothing words against Boba’s hair while he studied the General sitting next to them. Obi-Wan looked tired as well. 

Had they gone into the war exhausted? Why were they so exhausted? What had happened on Galidraan? Cal had so many questions, questions he hadn’t even considered needing to ask. Boba whispered something and he strained to hear the words. They were, unfortunately, lost to the air. Cal settled on just resting his chin on the top of Boba's head and giving him as much comfort as possible. The trembling from his partner had lessened greatly, but it wasn't fully gone yet.

“I thank you, old friend,” Obi-Wan murmured before both Jedi were saying their goodbyes. The light from the comm vanished, call over. Piercing blue eyes focused on him and Cal tightened his grip on Boba. There was a request for something in that gaze and he didn’t know how to answer. 

“Boba needs a pudding cup,” he blurted out. A watery snort of laughter escaped Boba, but he didn’t comment on the noise. No, he just kept staring at the General. 

“Ah, so he does. Just a moment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boba had a rough time there. T_T poor baby needs a pudding cup.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His thoughts were rather rudely interrupted by Cal poking him, hard, in the cheek with a finger. 
> 
> “What,” he snapped after yanking the spork free of his mouth. 
> 
> “Nothing,” Cal replied softly. The blankets were pulled back up around the jetii, a sign of discomfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: panic attack near the end of the chapter. Also, Boba has a lot of thoughts regarding murder. 
> 
> Boba's POV.

Boba sat, sucking on his spork, while he watched Kenobi read on the other end of the couch. Things had been tense ever since the call with Windu. Just thinking about that man resulted in his blood boiling. The tiny tines on the end of the spoon bit into his tongue while he started to focus on ways to get revenge. Maybe he could off Windu before he offed his old man? Sure, Mace hadn’t murdered his buir yet, but what if he still tried? They couldn’t go to Geonosis- actually, he strained to look at the chrono on the wall, weren’t they already past when they were supposed to be there? 

It was actually well past midmeal, not that anyone seemed to be hungry, and almost latemeal. Buir sure had been in his bedroom awhile. 

The first time around had been a bit of a blur he realized while searching his memories. Kenobi had shown up, buir had shown his wrists for some reason, and then they ran. That had all been the first night. Now, he realized, they were more than halfway through the next day! They had made it longer on Kamino this time around. Okay, so maybe Windu wouldn’t get the chance to kill Jango, but he still wanted to stab the man. There were several traps he had learned from Aurra Sing that would work well to decimate the purple saber pain in his shebs. His thoughts were rather rudely interrupted by Cal poking him, hard, in the cheek with a finger. 

“What,” he snapped after yanking the spork free of his mouth. 

“Nothing,” Cal replied softly. The blankets were pulled back up around the jetii, a sign of discomfort. He was starting to pick up on Cal’s tells and figured Cal had started picking up on his. Oh, wait, had he been projecting his murderous intent? BD took that moment to hop onto the back of the couch and walk over to Kenobi. The droid let out an inquiry about what the General was reading. Obi-Wan didn’t even glance up from his datapad, merely hummed a faint sound of having heard the question.

“BD wants to know what you are reading.” Boba didn’t mind playing translator, but he made a mental note to force Kenobi to get better at understanding droids. The man wouldn't always be around them, so he had to learn. He blinked suddenly and then shot a glare at Cal. His partner in crime merely shrugged with a faint smirk. Cal and BD had totally done this to distract him from his murder Mace Windu plans! He was oddly impressed.

“A mission overview, dear young one,” Obi-Wan replied in a distracted tone. “Would it be too much trouble to ask for some tea?” Tea, of course, the old man wanted tea. Boba hadn’t known him well in the future, but he knew enough to know the General would walk through fire to have a good cup of tea. 

“Cal and I will make it,” he blurted out. “Come on-” He yanked Cal, blanket and all, right off the couch after him. 

“Hey,” Cal grumbled while he tripped over the blanket that was caught between his feet. Boba had to pause to help him untangle. “Why did I have to come with?”

“Revenge,” Boba deadpanned. 

They left the blanket in the middle of the floor and rushed off into the kitchenette to make that cup of tea. Curse their heights, he thought viciously. He ended up having to drag out a step stool so they could go about actually making the boiled leaf water. It was an exercise in working together that did not go well at all. At least two batches got burned because Boba didn’t actually know what he was doing and refused to bow to Cal’s knowledge. Jango somehow had a knack for picking the right moment of walking in on them and this time was no different. They were on the floor, Cal had Boba in a headlock while BD cheered, and tea sludge spattered the ground and lower cabinets. 

“What,” his buir started to ask with an exhausted tone, “is going on here?”

Both boys froze, glancing up at Jango with guilty looks. The latest kettle squealed loudly before steam started gushing out from under the lid. Which, sadly, was very much not how a kettle was designed to work. 

“I figured they had something to work out,” Obi-Wan called from the living room. “Have they destroyed the kitchenette yet in their squabble?”

Boba’s mouth fell open. Kenobi had set them up? That conniving bastard- A loud knock at the door had everyone startling and cut off his mental cursing. He shoved himself off the ground, pushing Cal down in the process who let out a faint sound of annoyance. He glanced up at his buir while half avoiding Cal smacking him on the side of the head while he sat up. That was a deserved hit. Now, who was knocking? A scientist or one of the trainers most likely, no way Skywalker had shown up so soon, so why? Jango motioned for them to stay where they were, which honestly- he should know better, and moved to go see who was at the door. Cal and Boba both crawled instantly to the edge of the kitchenette and peeked their heads around the corner to try and witness whatever was about to happen. 

Kenobi made no move to turn around and watch, but Boba knew the old man was still paying attention. Probably using some jetii nonsense to spy. 

The door opened and whoever was there was well hidden by his buir. Huh, so they were short. Not a longneck then. He tried to remember how many of the trainers were short. 

“Shouldn’t you be in class,” came the gruff voice of his buir. Boba blinked hard. Class? Was it a clone? Cal was suddenly grabbing his upper arm hard, leaning against him while the color vanished from his already pale face. 

“Cal,” he mouthed as he glanced at his sort of friend. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” a young voice said with all the professionalism of a cadet. “I realize this is a violation of protocol, but I was wondering if we could talk? It is important, sir.” 

“What’s your designation, kid?”

“CC-2552, sir!” There was a clear salute in that response.

Boba’s attention was fully away from the door now as he stared in a sort of twisted fascination at Cal. The kid was breathing way too fast, almost like he couldn’t actually get air into his lungs. Wait, it had taken him a moment, but it finally dawned on him painfully. Cal was having one of those episodes just like he suffered from! The memories and feelings became just so overwhelming and it always felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. He had nearly fallen straight into a full-blown episode just hearing Mace’s voice, but Cal had ground him. He had to ground him! He had to make him understand that the vod at the door wasn’t about to raise a blaster at him.

“Cal, focus on me,” he ordered while grabbing the sides of Cal’s face between his hands. “No one is going to hurt you here! Our vod, ours. We are going to save him before it happens-” He let out a grunt of frustration when Obi-Wan was suddenly there, pulling Cal into his arms. The jetii was whispering something over and over while the small jet’ika trembled in those arms. 

“Cadet,” CC-2552 called out cautiously before making a mad dash past Jango. Jango did try to stop the intruder, but he didn’t move quite fast enough. The clone looked to be about their age physically and was a fast karker. Boba erupted from the floor of the kitchenette and threw himself in front of Obi-Wan and Cal. His arms went out wide to either side as he did his best to block access. Cal needed to calm down first! This was bad-

“Commander Kestis,” the young clone blurted out loudly. 

“Oh, dear,” Kenobi breathed out. 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Jango swore.

Boba felt the laughter bubble up and escape past his lips. How was this possible? Had the clone- Striker if he recalled right- been in the room as well when the power had overtaken them? 

Oh, kark, did that mean Darth Vader was running around this time as well?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. RIP so much tea.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Now," Kenobi said after resting his teacup on his knee. "Why don't we try this again?" 
> 
> The cadet glanced towards Boba, no Cal he realized, and seemed to be waiting for something. Cal froze with the spork in his mouth, and then, finally signed a crude version of permission granted. Boba nodded along with whatever their plan was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TALKS HAPPEN! 
> 
> Pudding is had.
> 
> Jango's POV.

He shouldn't have left his room, that was the thought he settled on. If he had stayed in his room he wouldn't have a growing headache. Jango had spent hours making comm calls and setting it up so the clones had the week off. No training, no classes, and definitely no decommissioning. That room was destroyed and he was trying to keep it that way to uphold his end of the deal. Jango knew he had never actually agreed to give Kenobi the time to learn the truth, but he had also never disagreed, so now here he was, annoyed, confused, in need of a drink. Those hours in the room, trying appease Kenobi had resulted in a scene he never thought he'd witness. 

His small living room was brimming with people. 

His buir would have been furious with him, and if he was being honest, was probably actually cursing him from Ka'ra. 

He crossed his arms over his chest and tried not to look at Kenobi. The kriffing jetii was sitting calmly on the floor with a cup of tea, like this was a completely normal situation. It was not. This had stopped being anywhere near normal the moment Kenobi had landed on Kamino. There were three of them now, three kriffing time travelers, sitting in his apartment. Jango leaned against the wall while he focused on the boys arranged on the couch. They seemed so young and so small. Cal was slowly eating his pudding cup like he wanted to savor every bite with Boba sitting next to him. Boba was licking the side of his spork after managing to make a slight mess in his haste to eat with the clone cadet on the other side of him. He wasn't a fan of how his heart seemed to ache at the sight of the clone just staring at the pudding cup and spork in his hands. The boy had made no move to yank the thing open and eat the contents. How unchildlike.

Did he not know how to eat a karking pudding cup? Did he think he was not allowed? How many of the clones would have that reaction? His teeth ground together as he tried to shove that thought away.

"You are supposed to eat it," he finally barked out. The cadet tensed, fingers tightening around the container and spork. Boba rolled his eyes while Cal just glanced cautiously at the cadet.

"Sir," came the proper acknowledgment. Jango frowned. The cadet looked to be the same size as Boba and that had to make him painfully young. Kenobi's words echoed in his mind. His son. He swore and stomped over to the couch before the small boy even had a chance to react. Without a word, he snatched the pudding cup from the clone. The seal made a faint tearing noise as he ripped it off. He slapped the now open pudding cup back into the small hand. 

"Eat, that's an order."

The cadet nodded before scooping up a sporkful of pudding. Good. He moved back to the wall and watched them like he was waiting for one of them to start a fight. With Cal and Boba's track record? That was highly possible. 

"Now," Kenobi said after resting his teacup on his knee. "Why don't we try this again?" 

The cadet glanced towards Boba, no Cal he realized, and seemed to be waiting for something. Cal froze with the spork in his mouth, and then, finally signed a crude version of permission granted. Boba nodded along with whatever their plan was. 

"Sir," the cadet stabbed his spork into the remainder of his pudding. "I can debrief you since my Commander has given permission-"

"Just tell us if you are a karking time traveler or not!" Jango was getting a little annoyed with how proper the kid was acting. His outburst had both Boba and Cal coughing into their pudding. Kenobi just reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose while a sigh escaped him. 

"Striker," Cal whispered loudly. 

"Sorry, sir," the clone whispered back just as loudly. Boba pointed his spork at the half-eaten container of pudding in Cal's hand and raised an eyebrow. Cal raised his own spork in a rather threatening manner. Jango slapped a hand to his face and dragged it down slowly while he cursed in his head. BD chortled. At least someone was having a great time, even if it was the droid. 

"Kenobi is right. Let's try this again," he drew out as calmly as he could manage. Three sets of eyes focused on him. His calm had been edged in pure beskar and their faces betrayed the fact they had picked up on that. Kenobi merely snorted politely into his cup of tea. "Come clean." He wasn't sure what he expected, but it should have been the children suddenly talking over each other just like last time. The clone- Striker- just kept eating his pudding as ordered while the other two tried to be the one heard first. Kenobi, curse him, merely sipped his tea calmly. He hopped the jetii choked on that boiled leaf water.

"Enough, you two-" He motioned to Boba and Cal. "-go back to eating your pudding. Cadet. Report."

Striker swallowed his mouthful of pudding hard and sat up straighter. "Sir! The Commander and Boba were interacting with Darth Vader and the Commander used his defensive snark to anger the Sith-" 

"Hey," Cal cried while Boba snickered. Jango shot them a warning glare. They both shut up instantly and bowed their heads over their pudding cups, working at finishing off the last of the snack.

"-as I was saying, sir, something happened. Some unknown factor. It appeared to be magick or the Force, unsure. It struck Cal first, then Boba, and then I also was overtaken. When I came to I was back here and much… younger, sir." Striker cast a quick glance toward his remaining pudding before raising his chin as he stared Jango down. The kid had guts. He motioned for him to go back to eating the treat. A slight twitch of the lips, an almost smile, and then the boy was eating again.

"Boba, your turn." Kenobi flashed a comforting smile and Boba smiled right back, practically preening under the attention. Jango bit the inside of his cheek and resisted the urge to override that order from the jetii. They were working together and he had to present a united front with him. 

"It's like Striker said," Boba said smugly. "I was collecting the bounty on Cal and Vader tried to kill me, but like a di'kut Cal pointed out I hadn't been paid yet. Vader lost his temper, which is notoriously short. That osik is the worst to run jobs for."

Kenobi made a sound suspiciously like he had just choked on his tea. Jango smirked. _Finally._ "Ahem, Darth Vader, is he the Sith mentioned before?" 

All three boys nodded.

Sith. Jango frowned deeply. Why was a Sith interacting with Boba? Better yet, why was there a bounty on Cal? That did explain why the two fought so much. They were forced allies now, rather like him and Kenobi, but they had some complicated history. Actually, technically he and Kenobi had a complicated history that the jetii wasn't even aware of- well, osik. He rubbed his jaw as he realized that parts of history seemed to enjoy playing out over and over. Maybe Kenobi was onto something, maybe answering a wrong with a wrong wasn't the right idea? Just thinking that made him feel unbalanced rather like he was wearing armor that didn't fit just right. 

"Jet'ika," Jango finally said softly when Boba didn't elaborate more. "Explain the rest." Those expressive eyes looked panicked for a second and then the boy was talking. He had been trying to save a village, but Boba had set him up. Jettise were hunted down and killed or worse in the time they came from. Some sort of empire ruled with a tyrannical grip. The galaxy, it seemed, was not better off. He wasn't sure how it happened, but at some point, while Cal spoke he moved to sit down next to Kenobi on the floor. The jetii could have been a statue from how little he was moving. Cal's words were jumbled, ideas seemingly tripping over each other. Jango was stuck trying to piece the timeline together properly and he already knew they were going to have to revisit this conversation when they were all a little less emotional. Which was frustrating because he had more questions than before and nowhere near enough answers. The children, however, needed time to rest and wind down.

Well, kark, he had really messed up in his quest for revenge. The goal hadn't been to make the entire Republic fall. It hadn't been to make everyone suffer, no, he had just wanted the jettise to pay. 

"Well," Kenobi finally said, "I certainly hope you're happy."

Jango whipped his face around to look at him, flabbergasted. Happy? He hadn't meant for any of that to happen! How could the jetii think he'd be happy with that much carnage and mayhem? His jaw clenched while a new sort of anger coursed through his veins. 

" _Excuse you,_ " he snarled. 

"You heard me, my dear, I said I hope you are happy." The boys were watching them with rapt attention, but he barely noticed. He was glaring at Kenobi. 

"That is not what I planned!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look, a sort of version of the future is told~! Also, this chapter was called "Aggressive Dadding" because that is what Jango does.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His late Master had clearly cared about the once Master Dooku, Obi-Wan had never felt right broaching the subject. People were free to leave the Order wherever, it wasn't unheard of really, but as a Padawan, he had also just known the topic of his Grandmaster was delicate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have typed and deleted this opening note so many times. There is a part of me that doesn't want to cause turmoil, but I have to say something before I dwell on something that is clearly bothering me and have it transform into a sore. 
> 
> I love that people comment on my stories, I love that people actually think about what is happening- I delight in opening up my inbox to the incoherent screaming or the elaborate comments. I love the simple hearts. 
> 
> That said- I am writing this for fun, as an outlet for the stress of my real life, and I do not appreciate being told I am doing my hobby wrong. There is a difference between constructive criticism and straight-up criticism. This is fan fiction, there isn't a proper way to write a take on an AU. Fanfiction is a way to explore and create new things within a given sandbox. My sandcastle might not look like yours, but it is not wrong. If you are unhappy with the course of this story then I invite you to write your own, follow what sparks joy for you, but please do not tell me that I am not doing something properly. My sandcastle may be lopsided, but I built it. I am proud of it. I do not have to share my sandcastle with you, but I decided to do so.
> 
> I fought with this for days, even contemplated just stepping away from this story. I am not because I still love what I have planned. I am happy with the pace at which I am revealing information with my words. I even debated being spiteful and just writing pure fluff but in the end? I am keeping to what I have planned because this is my story. This is my sandcastle. 
> 
> Even after typing this all up I am still debating deleting this opening note, but I am not going to because there are other writers out there that do lose hope from one single comment. So to people out there that have been told they aren't writing properly- your sandcastle is beautiful to someone, please ignore those that just want to kick it down.
> 
> Now, this whole chapter takes place in the apartment. It is from Obi-Wan's POV.

The boys were all in Boba’s room now, most likely plotting instead of resting as ordered. Jango had looked like he was about to send Striker back to wherever the clones slept, but one look from Obi-Wan had stopped him. He wanted them all within yelling distance while he sorted some things out so that meant Striker stayed. Getting them to agree to even go into the other room had been a feat and now several cushions and blankets were missing from the living room. He assumed they were making a blanket base, which he was fine with, but it meant he was going to have to spend the night meditating instead of sleeping. Hardly the first time he had gone without a good night's rest and he had the feeling it would be far from the last.

His first course of action was to pointedly go back to reading while Jango stewed. The bounty hunter was broiling in emotions and that was perfectly fine with him. It was the pacing that almost made the whole situation theatrical. He was actually glad Anakin hadn't arrived yet. His Padawan tended to still get overly emotional and they all needed some time to figure out where they stood with each other before a new potential volatile element was introduced. He was going to need to tell Ani everything, which he was not exactly excited about. There was a headache brewing just from that potential encounter. If he was lucky he could talk to his Padawan alone, but first, he needed to finish reading the documents Mace had sent. He needed to focus on the here and now, not the conversations to come. His lips pulled down at the corners as he finished reading the mission parameters for Galidraan. 

A seemingly simple request to stop the senseless murder of political activists by a band of rabid Mandalorians had seemed dangerously straight forward, but something settled poorly in his stomach. 

“Are you,” Jango began to ask.

“No,” he interrupted without glancing up from the datapad. Obi-Wan didn't even know what the other would ask, but he was trying to focus. The rest of his remark was on par with a sabacc bluff. “I am trying to read. If you are so concerned then, by all means, feel free to check on your children and Cal.” 

"Kenobi," the bounty hunter said gruffly. Ah, he had hit one worry on the head it seemed. Obi-Wan didn't look up from what he was reading, no, he merely clicked open the next file. 

"Be a dear and grab me some more that lovely drink we shared last night." A grunt and then Jango was stalking off towards the kitchenette.

Galidraan was, to put it politely, a real kark up. He pinched the bridge of his nose while squeezing his eyes shut, taking a moment to collect himself. He now was certain he knew what had started the break from the Order when it came to one Count Dooku. He had barely talked to his Grandmaster and he had never thought to pry. His late Master had clearly cared about the once Master Dooku, Obi-Wan had never felt right broaching the subject. People were free to leave the Order wherever, it wasn't unheard of really, but as a Padawan, he had also just known the topic of his Grandmaster was delicate. 

That train of thought was not exactly relevant to what was going on now, he told himself. 

He ran the pad of his thumb over the edge of the datapad while he tried to line the facts up in his head. The Order had gone in without knowing the full story, the Mandalorians had refused to stand down and then came the bloodbath. Two parties, both thinking they were in the right, had slaughtered each other. The notes at the end of the mission saw Dooku requesting to make things right, tracking down the survivors to help start making amends. Master Yoda, along with a few others, denied the request. There was a note added months later from a younger Mace, saying he had made the attempt to find the survivors and got nowhere. And then, painfully, the file was closed when the Order helped Satine become the Duchess of Mandalore. 

Oh, how one wrong had spiraled and created a devastating web of malice. 

They had messed up and now Jango's children were paying the current price. The galaxy would pay the price in the future it seemed, but he knew this was only part of it- something else was at play. Who had really hired the commission of the clones? Who had sought Jango out? Someone that clearly knew he'd be frothing at the mouth to get revenge.

"Well," he finally said before resting the datapad on his lap. This was a spectacular mess. "I have some semblance of an idea about what started this tragedy." His gaze shifted from the datapad and he blinked when he realized Jango was holding out a bottle. Ah, yes, he had asked, hadn't he? He gave a soft nod of thanks as he expected the offered alcohol. 

"And?" Jango settled himself into a seat with his own bottle. 

"It is a karking mess, to put it bluntly. It is clear to me that those in power at the time did little to make actual amends-"

"Amends," Jango bit out with clear venom. "Your people slaughtered-"

"And yours slaughtered mine," he replied before taking a swig of his drink. "Both sides took heavy casualties, and please, I am not defending what happened. What happened was wrong." He could feel the confusion taking root in the anger coming off the man. "And what the Order did to ease their own guilt was no better. I am sorry, truly, but what you are doing now-" He motioned towards Boba's room and then towards the general vicinity of the rest of Kamino. "-is dark, Jango. Why didn't you go back to your people? Why did you decide this was the appropriate course of action?"

Jango frowned at him. "My people are dead, remember?"

"Are they? I wasn't aware the entirety of every clan and house was on the Galidraan on that day." It suddenly looked like Jango had swallowed something rotten and sour. Obi-Wan just gave him a pointed look before taking another drink from his bottle. The brew burned like the suns of Tatooine before mellowing out into a smooth flavor. Jango opened his mouth, most likely to say something harsh, but a sound from Boba's room had them both turning to look at the open door. 

"Are we getting a late meal," Boba asked in an annoyed tone. "Pudding isn't going to cut it."

Oh, oh, dear. He glanced at Jango, who was now letting out a faint swear. 

"Bob'ika, I'll start making it now." His bottle was set down on the small living room table before he got up to go do as he said. Obi-Wan pursed his lips together for a moment and then decided that he was needed in the kitchenette as well. He stood up to do just that, but Boba motioned to him. Oh? He raised an eyebrow in a faint question. What was this about? Boba motioned harder. Ah, well, it seemed he should go see what this was about. 

Obi-Wan soon found himself sitting inside an impressive blanket base with the boys arranged around him. 

"General," Striker said while hugging the droid in his lap. BD, it seemed, was trying to help comfort the newest time traveler. "We need to discuss major events of something called the Clone Wars." 

"BD has some footage," Cal piped up. 

"We," Boba motioned to all of them, "need to stop the future."

The future supposedly was always in motion and he had the feeling the Council was not going to be happy with what he was about to say. Jedi were guardians, protectors, they were not supposed to meddle. Except, they had been meddling haphazardly since Galdiraan, and now, he was going to meddle with a clear purpose.

"By all means, let's begin."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will continue to be pudding cups and other smatterings of fluff. There is still angst and turmoil in this fic, but I am not writing solely to torment these characters. 
> 
> Thank you for sticking with this sandcastle.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A faint sound akin to a throat-clearing escaped the General and both of them glanced towards the man. There was a faint twinkle of bemusement in those eyes. “You are going to have to teach me one of these days if you truly wish for me to help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I woke up this morning and chose violence. Please enjoy lots of angst.
> 
> Striker's POV.

Warm orange stars danced around the enclosed space while they plotted. BD was a unique nightlight it seemed, but Striker appreciated the touch of comfort. They talked quickly and they talked in hushed tones. General Kenobi seemed to know what questions to ask and he seemed to know when to just let them ramble. Boba did most of the talking, putting himself as the designated leader of the group. If Cal was fine with that, then Striker would force himself to be fine with it as well. Boba had seen a different side to the war and the after-effects. Actually, he realized suddenly, they had all experienced in very different ways. 

Was that why each of them had been chosen to be thrown back in time? 

BD seemed to thrum with energy in his lap. The motion was distracting and somehow grounding at the same time. Any attempts at chasing after the thought of _why_ was set aside while he forced himself to focus on the debriefing once more.

Boba was in the middle of explaining the demise of the Order when he suddenly felt the urge to speak up. The words- they just seemed to tumble past his lips before he even knew what was happening. Unbidden and unwanted. 

“There was something- it wasn’t me,” he whispered. Striker began to curl in on himself, arms circling the droid in his lap like it was a child needing protection. Memories were trying to cling to him and drag him down. “I vanished.” 

He still had nightmares of that day. He had raised his blaster towards the Commander, had screamed in anguish inside a mind that didn’t seem his own anymore, and then something had happened. There was a void, an abyss that swallowed a fraction of the memory. Striker knew something was wrong with his mind. He just didn’t know what. When the blank cleared he could recall his vod’e still acting like things were normal, right up until the point they were set on gunning down Jedi like they were nothing more than clankers.

If he closed his eyes now he could picture the smoldering hallway, the pounding boots- the howl of anger and pain. 

They hadn’t been themselves. _They hadn’t been themselves-_

There had been no one left to help them, not when they had raised their weapons against the people that could have. 

“It wasn’t you,” a voice broke through his grief. A small hand gripped his wrist. Glove free. No, that wasn’t good. Cal needed gloves! Striker glanced up at the wide, sort of overly moist eyes of his Commander and blinked in confusion. “It wasn’t any of you. I-”

The sound of the bedroom door opening felt like it was amplified and General Kenobi brought a finger to his lips. Silence. They were to stop talking. Order received. Cal quickly signed for them to follow the order a mere second later. Order confirmed. Boba made a sound rather like a rude snort before squirming past all of them and climbing out of the makeshift base. An elbow got Striker in the side during that ordeal and he resisted the urge to hit the other in retaliation. 

“Buir,” Striker heard Boba say in an annoyed voice. “Is late meal ready?”

“It is, Bob’ika. What exactly have you done to your room?” Jango’s timbre was still something he had to get used to for some reason. The Prime was not what he expected at all. The incident with the pudding cup still left him feeling unbalanced and he knew he was tensing up just hearing the man’s voice. How could a person that had turned his back on all of the vod’e be the same type of person to give him a pudding cup? What had changed already in this redo of life? His arms started to quake as thoughts of what had happened and what was to come bubbled violently to the forefront of his mind.

Cal’s hand shifted from his wrist and suddenly their fingers were laced together. An anchor amidst the storm. 

Cal mouthed a simple phrase at him. _It's okay._

Striker raised his free hand to sign that he understood. His Cadet was by his side. Sure, they were both nipper size now, but they could figure this out. He still owed Boba a smack for even putting them all in this situation. He blinked and then grinned, he owed Boba for putting them all in this situation!

A faint sound akin to a throat-clearing escaped the General and both of them glanced towards the man. There was a faint twinkle of bemusement in those eyes. “You are going to have to teach me one of these days if you truly wish for me to help.” 

Striker and Cal glanced at each other and both mirrored the other’s sheepish look. Any further conversation was ended by Boba sticking his head back inside the base, shoving a blanket up as he did so. 

“Come on, time to eat.”

The novelty of eating what would be considered a family meal was only ruined by the fact that the Prime kept giving him these strange looks. Striker had tried to leave, tried to go back to his vod’e, but he had been forcibly picked up by the Prime and dropped into a seat across from Boba. The chair, he noticed, didn’t match the rest at the table. The Prime had made sure there was room for him. With his position at the table, he got to witness Cal and Boba behaving in a peculiar manner. Boba somehow managed to put every vegetable on his plate onto Cal’s and, in exchange, his Commander gave him a portion of the meat off his plate.

That was...something he was going to have to think about later.

“Eat,” the Prime ordered before tapping the edge of Striker’s plate with a spork. “All of it.”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Jango, honestly,” the General sighed out in an annoyed tone. Those two words set off a sort of heated conversation between the two adults. Striker felt like he was actually in some holoserial. He shoveled mouthfuls of the flavorful stewed meat and vegetables into his mouth while he did his best not to treat this like an actual show to watch. Boba kicked him under the table and he flushed. Okay, maybe he had been a little too obvious in his attempts to not stare at anyone. He bit down a little too hard on the spork when General Kenobi actually slapped a hand down on the table. Cups and plates alike seemed to jump loudly. “He stays.”

“I can’t just keep every kriffing kid that-”

“Oh, yes you can! He is your son, Jango Fett!” 

Son? Who? Boba? Striker blinked and then realized Boba and Cal were both staring at him. One looked almost sinister in their delight and the other looked melancholy. He slowly removed the spork from his mouth and cast a glance towards the Prime. The atmosphere at the table felt like it was ready to shatter and drench them all in ice. Jango was glaring at the General, but that darkened gaze seemed to flicker to him for a brief second. Strange. He pointed the spork at himself and raised an eyebrow as he looked back at Boba and Cal. Was this fight about him? Cal nodded softly. 

Everything seemed to turn to static. 

Son. 

Son of Jango Fett. 

That- that wasn’t right. 

The rest of the meal was eaten in silence after Jango had stated flatly that this wasn’t a conversation appropriate to have while breaking bread. He chewed on the spork while the plates were cleared and kept on chewing while glasses appeared. Jango set a bottle down, which seemed to be some sort of signal. Cal and Boba slipped out of their seats. Striker felt a moment of panic. Did he leave now? Did he stay? His heart seemed to be suddenly gripped by a painful uncertain feeling. 

A faint brush of comfort seemed to go past his mind. Striker blinked and glanced up at Cal, who was now staring right at him.

His Commander gave the command to follow. He did as ordered. Later, much later, he lay on the floor between Boba and Cal and just stared up at the blanket canopy above them. BD was letting out a faint brrr like noise that reminded him of a tooka snoring. It was soothing. Yet, he couldn’t sleep. 

_He is your son._ That clipped tone kept replaying in his head like a broken battle droid. 

He hadn’t traveled back in time to force the Prime to accept him as family. Well, actually he hadn’t even planned to travel back in time at all. He had just been trying to protect Cal. His thoughts must have been loud because the Cadet shifted on the pillows to curl up against him. His gaze shifted from the blanket roof and towards the small Jedi. 

“We’ll stop the purge, sir,” he whispered to the sleeping boy. “Somehow.” 

The first real sign that he had managed to doze off came in the form of being rudely awakened. He jolted up, nearly getting Boba in the chin with his forehead in his haste, and stared at the now open bedroom door with wide eyes. Cal was standing in that doorway, looking up at the General. They were talking softly. He frowned as he leaned forward in an attempt to hear what was being said.

“They will be here soon, Initiate. Will you tell them?”

“I don’t-” Cal ran a hand through his already disheveled hair while letting out a swear word no child should say. Their bodies might look like those belonging to a cadet, but they all were much older on the inside. So why was it so jarring to see one of them curse? He wanted to tell Cal not to utter such words, not while he was so young. Kriff, his thoughts were so confusing lately. “No, not yet. The Force wants me to wait.”

“As you wish. I am following your lead, for the time being, my dear, but I must warn you. Anakin is quite intelligent, you may not be able to keep as much as you’d like from him.”

Striker glanced over at Boba to see if the other was listening. He was, but he also had a dark look on his face. Fire was simmering in those eyes. Something about Anakin arriving angered Boba. 

“I don’t trust him,” Boba whispered. Who? The General? Striker glanced back towards the talking Jedi, trying to figure out what the issue was. He had thought Boba liked General Kenobi. He was positive that Boba liked Cal. His head was starting to hurt from trying to figure out the dynamics of relationships. “Skywalker is the worst.”

Oh! Anakin Skywalker was coming to Kamino. Boba didn’t trust Anakin Skywalker, the man who was a hero in the future. He opened his mouth to ask why but quickly shut it when the other just gave him a pointed look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, I wanted to say I appreciate all the comments. When I posted my PSA I was not expecting quite the outpouring of support I got. I have read each and every comment. I know and appreciate that this story is not for everyone, but I am thrilled with how many people enjoy this sandcastle. 
> 
> What I have crafted, what you are enjoying, this has been an experience! I was a bit slower in getting this update crafted. I took a hit, despite all the support, and had to take some time off to just sort of reset myself. 
> 
> Thank you, all of you. I love you. 
> 
> May we all continue to find joy in sandcastles. Stay safe and healthy <3


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The snicker that escaped Boba was loud and promptly followed by a faint sound of pain. Striker had elbowed his brother in the side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating from work~! Misbehaving. 
> 
> Cal's POV.

"I won't ask again, your other hand," the General ordered. Cal just puffed his cheeks out and seriously debated running. He didn't know where the gloves had come from, but he was not thrilled with the fact General Kenobi wanted him to wear a full set. One was enough. He had survived years only wearing one! Why did he need to wear both? 

"Cal." 

The General really was not amused. 

Boba and Striker both looked like they were trying their hardest not to laugh while this played out in front of them. Jango was still getting ready for the day, but once he was done he was supposedly taking both of his sons to see Striker's batchmates. Why couldn't they have left already? 

"But Gener-'' A displeased eyebrow raise had him swallowing the rest of the argument. The General could convey a shocking amount with a single look. Cal was actually kind of jealous. Would he be able to have that sort of presence when he grew up? ...again. When he grew up again. Wow, that train of thought gave him an instant headache. Obi-Wan motioned again, clearly losing the last of his patience, and all thoughts of growing up evaporated. Right. Gloves. Cal let a loud sigh escape him before he finally held his hand out as requested. His eyebrows climbed up his forehead while Master Kenobi muttered softly. Something about stubborn padawans? What? The snap of the button filled the space and he was stuck with his hands sealed in soft material. 

Oh, his hands felt warmer. Maybe this wasn't so bad?

BD whistled in amusement and threw out a remark about how Cal was going to have trouble eating sticky foods. He scrunched up his nose in annoyance. 

"I don't need these," he grumbled. 

"Ah, I rather disagree, young one. You may have control of your powers in the future, but you clearly are struggling now. Your body isn't caught up with what is in here." Obi-Wan pressed two finger tips to Cal's forehead. "Need I remind you of the fact you've passed out a couple times now?"

The snicker that escaped Boba was loud and promptly followed by a faint sound of pain. Striker had elbowed his brother in the side. 

"I don't like this," Jango announced while stepping into the living space. "There was no need-" 

"There was. Do stop whining and take the boys to see their brothers." Cal winced. The amount of durasteel hiding under that pleasant tone felt like it could slice skin. Jango merely gave the General a look dripping in vexation. Their relationship was strange. Jango clearly wanted to pick up a spork and stab Kenobi, but instead he set about making sure both Boba and Striker were ready to leave. Sometimes, and it was probably in his head, he thought he sensed a confused attraction feeling coming from the bounty hunter. Well, General Kenobi was famous for being attractive so that was probably why. He wasn't going to dwell on that too much, it wasn't important. 

The Fetts went one way and he and General Kenobi went another way. A slight feeling of apprehension settled firmly in his chest. They were separated and it was a peculiar feeling. Would they be okay? He nibbled on his lower lip and let his thoughts churn while he followed after the General. The man walked fast! He silently cursed having small legs because he had to take twice as many steps to keep up with the Jedi Master. This was so unfair. Cal's limbs actually started to feel heavy about the time they stopped at a door. They hadn't even walked that far and he had the huge urge to sit down in the hallway. What was wrong with him? Was his body really so maladjusted for how he normally behaved? He made a faint face as he stared down at his gloved hands. This was a problem. If he was having issues then Striker and Boba probably were as well. The plan was already to have the General help them, and eventually Jango, but now they were definitely going to have to rely on the adults more. That was frustrating.

The door opened and a startling blast of cold rain erupted into the hallway. He took a step back instinctively. Puddles were already forming inside the brightly lit space. Rain on Kamino was on a whole new level. He could see someone bolting out of a shiny ship.

Someone followed them moments later.

The urge to stare openly at the new arrivals was strong as they crossed the landing pad, but he managed to behave. Pulling slightly at one of the fingers of his new gloves was a great distraction. Well, it would have been if Master Kenobi hadn't rapped his knuckles on top of Cal's head lightly as a minor warning. A Jedi was calm. He flushed with annoyance and settled on clasping his hands behind his back while he stood next to the General. The Senator entered the hallway first, pushing her hood back in a cascade of water. Her gaze shifted to him for a brief moment before she directed a dazzling smile to the General.

"Master Kenobi, it feels like it has already been far too long since we've seen each other!" Her voice was musical and reminded him of the wind chimes on Zeffo. He could have been wrong, since he wasn't overly familiar with Senator Amidala, but he sort of got the impression she was teasing Obi-Wan. 

"Indeed. I do hope I didn't stop you and my Padawan from doing something dangerous in the short time we've been apart," Obi-Wan said dryly. Cal squinted faintly and glanced up at him. He sensed a mixture of amusement and resignation. Well, those two certainly had a close relationship. 

"Mi'lady!" A tall teenager rushed into the hallway, hair spiky from the rain, and skidded to a stop next to her. "You could have waited." 

"Oh, please, Ani, the rain was hardly going to stop while we waited." She popped a fist on her hip and gave him a bemused look. Anakin Skywalker was very much not what Cal remembered. An astromech droid rolled in out of the rain while spewing profanities. BD let out a curious sound, peeking out from the safety behind his legs. Oh, he sensed trouble if those two got along. 

"Master," Anakin said in a clear dismissal of the Senator's remark. "What do you need saving from this...time…" Bright blue eyes focused on Cal while the words trailed off. Those eyes widened in clear surprise that was sharp and bordering on frigid. A strange mixture of emotions played across the young face of Anakin Skywalker. Memories clashed with the present. He shifted a fraction closer to Obi-Wan while Anakin kept on staring at him. Discomfort blossomed in the form of a headache behind his eyes. Would it be wrong to hide behind the General? 

"Obi-Wan, you have a son?"

What? 

Why did people keep thinking that?

General Kenobi let out a strangled groan before covering the lower half of his face with a hand. Well, this had gotten awkward fast.

"I'm Cal Kestis, not Cal Kenobi," he blurted out while reaching to snag the edge of Obi-Wan's tunic in a fist. That was probably only feeding into the weird fantasy Skywalker was fabricating in his head. He could see both the Senator and Anakin glancing towards his fingers tangled up in the material. 

"Yes, thank you for that somewhat defense, Initiate," Obi-Wan said in an oddly calm voice. "Anakin merely spoke before thinking."

"Apologies, Master, but you have to admit he looks an awful lot like you!" R2 made a remark about Anakin being glitched and Cal felt his lips twitch while the older Padawan shot a glare at the droid. "Hey!" 

"Perhaps we should not be having this conversation here?" Senator Amidala motioned from them all to start walking with a simple movement of her hand. 

"Mm, yes, I think that is a wise idea." Cal let out a sound when he suddenly found himself picked up. BD let out a matching noise and quickly clambered up Obi-Wan's leg before leaping into Cal's arms. The only sign of discomfort from the Jedi Master was the way his eyes crinkled at the corners for a moment. 

He could have walked! He was recovered! Okay, sure, he was feeling sort of tired, but that certainly didn't mean he needed to be carried like some youngling. 

"… Master," he grumbled.

"Shush. Not here. I can see your exhaustion." Cal tried to clench his jaw, but a yawn escaped him like a traitor. Master Kenobi snorted and didn't say another word as they all walked towards Jango's apartment. He could feel a strong gaze on him and he just knew Anakin was the source. 

Being a youngling again was really getting on his nerves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🥰 Oh look, more players have arrived!!!


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Padmé tensed, a hand going towards her hip, most likely reaching for a weapon. 
> 
> “Kenobi,” the bounty hunter snapped. “Stop stirring up trouble because you are mad at me. I already told you I wouldn’t go after your pet Senator again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 20~! How did we get here? lol 
> 
> Thank you all for continuing to support my chaotic updates :3

Things had felt off since the moment he had woken up with the Force screaming at him all those nights ago. Padmé had rushed to his side while he babbled incoherent things, but somehow she had picked up on the fact they needed to be elsewhere. The strange dreams still clung to him. The normal dream about his mother had morphed into something else, something he didn't understand. Thankfully they sorted out one part of the dream by going to seek out his mother. Going back to Tatooine had been like picking at the scab of a wound that was almost healed. It hurt but finding his mother alive was the fresh air the wound needed. Had the Force basically punched him in the mind so they'd be there in time to rescue his mother? Reducing was a loose term. His mother had been subjected to helping her captors- creating medicine and cooking. 

No, rescue was right. She had become a slave again.

But why had they even taken her? 

Why had his dream made it seem like they had been peeling the flesh from her bones while she was alive? 

He barely had time to dwell on that before his Master called. 

Obi-Wan needed saving. _Again._

Anakin was angry. He barely had spent time with his mother and already he had to rush off because Obi-Wan had the worst timing in the galaxy. That anger simmered the whole trip to Kamino. Padmé seemed to pick up on his mood and gave him some space during the trip. He didn't want space, though, he wanted to cling to the Senator. Every glance she gave him was like a cool breeze that peeled back another layer of sand from his flesh. He wanted to be her sole focus. A part of his mind whispered that it was a want that was bordering on attachment. Love, love was encouraged, but a Jedi needed to be able to step back when the time came. When he looked at her, well, he wanted to follow her forever.

Padmé was the moon. Gorgeous and glowing. She had been opening up to him after he came back with his mother and now they were right back to that awkward silence. That awkwardness ended harshly when he found himself staring at Kenobi Junior. 

He didn't buy it. His eyes narrowed as he studied the kid in his Master's arms. The youngling was giving him a pretty good glare from Obi-wan’s shoulder, which he got was fair. He was glaring openly at the kid. They were locked in a sort of staring match, neither willing to look away. He kind of liked the kid. Stubborn. There was definitely a familial resemblance. His mind was telling him that Obi-Wan wasn't lying- no, that wasn't right. There was a faint whisper curling through his mind. _Maybe Cal was the type of thing his perfect Master would actually lie about?_

“Ani,” Padmé hissed softly. “Calm down. Obi-Wan called us here for a reason, remember?” His gaze finally shifted from Cal and his Master and towards the young Senator. There was a faint moment, a mere second, where he was annoyed that she still looked radiant even after running through the deluge of water outside. Maybe she had lied to him all those years ago? Maybe she was an angel? He knew he had to look like a drowned womp rat. 

“Right,” he finally grumbled. They’d sort this all out when they got back to- wait where were they heading exactly? All the sterile hallways looked the same to him. It turned out they were going to an apartment. The whole space felt weird. Mixed feelings of anger and amusement. His very flesh seemed to bump under the sheer emotion. He moved to sit down on the couch and paused. The piece of furniture was a skeleton. 

“Cal,” Obi-Wan said while setting his supposedly not son down. “Go dismantle the blanket base and bring back some of the cushions, if you’d be so kind.” 

That small red-haired youngling shot a look towards Anakin before vanishing into a side room. 

Blanket base? Sweet Stars, he hadn't built one of those since he had first arrived at the Temple! 

“Master,” Anakin could hear the clear whine in his own voice and winced faintly. “You can’t be serious! The way you treat him-”

“I treated you in such a way once, my dear Padawan.” 

He scowled. Well, yes, but that was beside the point! He was Obi-Wan's Padawan so, of course, he had been treated like that. What was Cal to his Master? 

“Master Kenobi,” Padmé interrupted easily. “Where exactly are we?” She smiled in such a way that Ani was positive more stars blinked into existence. 

“Ah, Kamino. I have stumbled upon a cloning facility and I am rather in need of your assistance in reading a contract over,” Obi-Wan admitted before turning to grab some cushions from a newly appeared Cal. Anakin sighed and just reached out with the Force to yank the cushions free and settle them on the couch. Once they were in place he threw himself down onto said couch with a scowl on his features. That scowl only grew as he felt Cal studying him. The open curiosity and confusion were strange. Most Jedi looked at him with disdain or judged him. (Obi-Wan assured him that no one did that, but Anakin still felt like they did.) Why wasn’t this brat doing that? 

Wait-

Anakin spun around on the couch, flinging his arms over the back of it as he stared with wide eyes at his Master. Clones, he had said this was a cloning facility. “Master,” the words tumbled from his lips unbidden. “Is Cal your clone?”

Silence filled the apartment before Obi-Wan actually held his face in his hands with a loud sigh. Padmé raised an eyebrow at him with a look on her features that let him know just how idiotic that comment was. Cal, though, Cal was just staring at him with his mouth hanging open. Pure shock radiated from the youngling.

A mixture of Artoo and the other droid chortling drifted up to his ears. Great, even the droids thought his question was stupid. In his defense, they looked a lot alike! If they weren’t actually father and son then the clone theory wasn’t a bad one.

He was saved from having to defend his remark thanks to the door of the apartment opening and two energetic boys rushed inside. They both halted in their momentum towards Cal when they spotted everyone in the living space. A moment later an older man was walking in behind them, clearly hiding exhaustion with a scowl.

“Kenobi,” the rough voice of the newest addition snapped across the room. “Did you forget to tell me we were going to have guests?”

“Hardly, I merely felt you need not be tipped off. Why, my dear, you’d probably take the boys and run,” Obi-Wan said in such a way that sounded like a thousand sighs were packed into those words. He pulled his hands away from his face and gave the man a look that actually had emotion. Anakin blinked. 

What the kriff was going on? 

“Speaking of,” his Master was already moving the whole conversation along. “Senator Amidala, may I introduce the man who tried to kill you?” 

Padmé tensed, a hand going towards her hip, most likely reaching for a weapon. 

“Kenobi,” the bounty hunter snapped. “Stop stirring up trouble because you are mad at me. I already told you I wouldn’t go after your pet Senator again.”

“Pet?” Padmé actually sounded confused, not offended like Anakin was. Anakin wanted to ignite his saber and end the person that had tried to kill her. Why wasn’t Obi-Wan doing that? Why did it seem like Obi-Wan and the hunter had a sort of relationship?

“Buir,” one of the boys said while grabbing the bounty hunter’s arm. They leaned back, anchoring themself by their grip on the other’s wrist. “We are all here now, even if Skywalker had to come along-” Excuse them? “-we can start working on our plan!” 

“Sir,” the other boy said in a prim voice. “You did promise you would help us. It really is for the betterment of the galaxy.” 

“Anakin thinks I’m a clone,” Cal blurted out. The boys that were clearly related both glanced at the redhead and a storm of emotions erupted around them. The slightly taller one started to snicker. Anakin clenched his jaw, annoyance flaring up inside of him. This wasn’t funny! It really was a good theory! 

“If it isn’t too much trouble,” a voice cut in. Padmé had settled on crossing her arms over her chest while she gave the entire room a rather displeased look. “I would like to circle back to the fact my bounty hunter is here. Master Kenobi-”

“Calm down, princess,” the bounty hunter drawled out while lifting his arm slightly so the boy clinging to it ended up leaving the floor. Feet swung while the boy grinned. “It was just a job. I am no longer aiming to collect the bounty on your pretty head. I’ve got bigger issues.” 

Anakin could see the way the corner of Padmé’s eyes seemed to tighten in annoyance. “I am a mere Senator now, no need for the sarcastic royal title, bounty hunter.”

“But why does he have two whole arms,” the boy not hanging off the bounty hunter asked. It was almost like they had voiced a thought out loud and hadn’t meant to do so, judging from the sudden embarrassed look that took up residence on their tiny face. The adults froze. Who was the kid talking about- Anakin did a double-take when he realized all three of the younglings were staring at him with a new sort of intensity. 

“Alright, that’s it,” Obi-Wan bit out. “Everyone sit down. Jango, be a dear and get us drinks, I think it is time we explain everything going on without outlandish and wild claims being tossed about. Boys, behave, please.” 

“But what did they mean about the arm-” Anakin snapped his mouth shut when he found himself the recipient of one impressively disapproving look from his Master. Force, he had one confused headache! Artoo whistled in amusement before rolling off into another room, followed closely by the strange little droid that had been following Cal around. 

“BD,” Cal called after the droids. “Please don’t blow up the facility!” 

Anakin’s eyes widened as the droid called back that it only blew up things when trying to save Cal’s butt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And hopefully, this answers a question so many people have been trying to sort out!   
> Also, writing from Ani's POV is...hard?


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were small, but that seemed to only hamper them a little. He had seen first hand what two of them could do accomplish and now there was a third one of them. Well, no, four. The droid, BD, was clearly in on all of this as well. 
> 
> Boba flashed him a scarily innocent-looking grin. Yeah, he didn't buy that for one second. Something was going to blow up soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking a self-care day and that means you get a chapter~! 
> 
> YEET! 
> 
> Jango POV.

More and more he was certain things were not great. Jango found himself wishing he had just knocked the jettise out when they showed up at his doorstep soaking wet. He could have taken Bob'ika and run. Ah, that would have saved him from such an eternal headache. He watched the gathering in his living room from the kitchenette while he aggressively washed the cup in his hands for the third time. 

This whole thing was spiraling so far out of control. Three tiny glares were suddenly leveled at him from over the back of the couch and he had a moment of trying to search his memory for what horrid offense he had committed against the children. Oh, it was most likely something in the future- wait, wasn't he deceased in the future? The ever-growing headache throbbed behind his eyes and he had to remind himself it was too early on in the day to down a bottle of whiskey. 

The clear-eyed jet’ika had stated he died after running and he hadn’t run so by that logic they had altered time. 

Maybe it wasn’t too early to down a bottle of whiskey after all? 

"But Master," came the shockingly annoying sounding voice of Kenobi's actual ad, "this isn't possible! Why would-"

"Anakin, please."

Jango narrowed his eyes faintly at the three small faces staring at him. Judging. Assessing. Those adike were thick as thieves. While he watched Boba shifted just enough to whisper something to Cal, who in turn shifted to whisper something to Striker. Well, that certainly couldn't be good. They were definitely plotting something. They were small, but that seemed to only hamper them a little. He had seen first hand what two of them could do accomplish and now there was a third one of them. Well, no, four. The droid, BD, was clearly in on all of this as well. 

Boba flashed him a scarily innocent-looking grin. Yeah, he didn't buy that for one second. Something was going to blow up soon. 

"Master Kenobi," the Senator's voice carried easily, musical in cadence. "Perhaps we should move onto the matter of the contract while we all take some time to adjust to the fanciful-" 

Boba vanished from the couch, curls the last thing he saw. Jango raised an eyebrow in question. It seemed they were on the move. Striker gave him a proper salute just before Cal also vanished from the couch. A faint sense of unease started to rise in his chest. Well, maybe they’d save their explosions for later? He was fond of this small apartment. And then Striker vanished as well. 

Silent little terrors, all of them. His lips twitched before he forced himself not to smile in pride. 

"Wait-" Anakin said after a moment. "Where did they go-" Kenobi's ad was a di'kut.

Kenobi just sighed loudly a moment before a loud rattling sound echoed from Boba's room. Yeah, that was about right for how his life was going, they weren’t waiting to blow things up. The adike had gotten impatient with all the talking. He was right there with them. He just wanted to board his ship and go put a bolt between Darth Tyranus’s unsettling eyes.

"Stay, I got this one," he informed Kenobi while finally setting the glass down. 

Now was his chance to escape the conversation he hadn’t been taking part in!

"Thank you, my dear." 

He could feel eyes on him while he made his escape. The whole thing was unsettling. Jango liked to think people judging him didn't bother him, but this felt like he was being stripped apart like an old set of armor. Maybe it was because he was already dealing with all the things Kenobi and the boys had brought up, but he just wanted to not deal with things for a bit. Checking on whatever his children- no, his child, Striker, and Cal were up to was a good distraction. He stepped into the room, the door shutting behind him, and just blinked. There was an astromech droid chattering loudly at BD and Striker was helping shove Boba into the karking vents again.

"No, you don't," Jango said as a way of announcing himself. He stepped around Cal, who was sitting on the floor playing with a datapad, and snagged his son out of the air. The yelp of surprise hurt his ears and he jerked. Sleeve caught on a bolt belonging to the vent cover. He pulled Boba free and swore thanks to the wonderful ripping noise that filled the space. His kriffing sleeve! If he thought hard enough about it he could actually pinpoint where everything had gone so wrong- it was that contract he had signed. He was going to have to either mend the shirt or waste credits on purchasing another one. Great, just great. Didn't he have enough headaches?

"Oh!" Cal suddenly was at his side. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he had to swallow a sound of surprise. Tooka eyes wide and interest clear on the tiny face. How had that child moved so silently? Jango threw Boba over his shoulder and gave both Cal and Striker an unimpressed look. "Do they have stories behind them?"

What?

“Hand down, adik,” he said without thinking. Cal flushed and lowered his gloved hand instantly, almost unaware he had been reaching out towards the bounty hunter. He stared at the jet'ika and tried to figure out what they were now talking about when it came to stories. 

"Your tattoos, buir!" Boba kicked his legs for good measure. Jango found himself wondering if it was safer out in the living room. Wait, actually, that was a solid idea. He could disrupt whatever nonsense was going on out there and unleash the terror children on Kenobi again. Though, they had already escaped once. He frowned, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully with his free hand as he did so, and tried to decide just how much he wanted Kenobi to suffer. 

“Sir,” Striker piped up softly in a cautious tone. Oh, he had forgotten to answer the question. They were all waiting on him. Right. Little soldiers. He finally pointed towards the doorway as an answer. He raised an eyebrow until Striker jumped off the bed and ushered his small Commander towards the doorway. Jango followed behind them, Boba securely over his shoulder, and decided a moment too late that he should have stayed hidden in the room with them. 

Obi-Wan was barely controlling the mirth trying to escape him. Eyes twinkled while a hand smoothed his beard out. “Well, I had thought you’d be able to handle grabbing our boys, but it appears I was wrong.” 

“Not a word,” he barked while he shifted just enough to set Boba down next to his friends. 

“...your boys,” Anakin said in an octave almost close to yelling. Everyone tensed. “Master, you can’t mean to tell me that you are married to _that_ bounty hunter!” 

“Hey,” Boba cried out in indignation. “What if he is? There is nothing wrong with that.” 

The look of pure horror and confusion on Anakin’s face was almost comedic. Jango shot a glance towards Kenobi and noted the man just looked bemused. This was a situation that could turn bad fast if they didn’t stop whatever was happening. 

“Actually,” the Senator spoke up, clearly ignoring Anakin, “if you two are legally married that would go a long way to protect the clones-”

“-Vode,” three tiny voices snapped out at once. 

“Apologies. It would go in a long way in protecting the _vo_ de.” Her accent wasn’t quite right, but it wasn’t the most atrocious he had ever heard. His heart did that strange annoying twinge again for some reason. They weren’t his...they weren’t his ade. Except- He glanced down at the boys standing next to him. So small and yet they already knew the horrors of the galaxy. He had done that. 

“Master, surely you wouldn’t go against the Council? Chancellor Palpatine has been saying-”

And that was when several things happened at once. Striker tensed, Boba swore, and both boys moved closer to Cal. The color was vanishing from that already pale face. Oh, osik. Jango tried to grab the jet’ika before it happened again, but his hands barely grabbed shoulders before he heard the cup in the sink shatter. 

A voice crackled into life and a holo flickered in the small space of the apartment. BD and the astromech had joined them it seemed.

“This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen, with the dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place-” 

And with that Jango believed every single thing the boys had decided to share with them. He couldn’t look away from the holo, even as he knelt down to pull Cal into his arms. Boba slammed into his side and a moment later Striker carefully moved to cling to his other side. 

He had destroyed the galaxy.

Manda help him, he had really messed up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T^T Listen, listen. All these comments just give me life. Thank you so much. I know I haven't been responding to them anymore, but I read them, I hug them, and I cherish them. 
> 
> THANK YOU FOR LOVING MY SANDCASTLE.
> 
> Edit: it has come to my attention that I don't know what I am doing. Going forward I shall be using vode and not vod'e. ~~Dangers of learning the wrong spelling and just rolling with it.~~

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it!   
> If you want to yell at me on tumblr, pls do. I like it when people stop by and say hi.  
> https://ironhoshi.tumblr.com/


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